


The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

by asotmGee



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, The Used, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Dark Past, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Kiss...Well Not Really But..., Friendship, Gay Sex, Hearing Voices, Hiding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Mood Swings, Murder, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Revenge, Self-Harm, Smut, Violent Art Depictions, Violent Thoughts, keeping secrets, release
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 183,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6351289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asotmGee/pseuds/asotmGee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero is a runaway that was forced out of the closet by his bigoted parents, and had no place to call home...until he met up with some familiar faces from high school, Ray (a drag queen), Bob (a stoner), and Mikey (a comic book merchant). They all take Frank under their wing out of sympathy, reminding him he’s not alone. Then, in his new home, Frank meets Mikey’s older brother...a known murderer that’s named Gerard Way. Infatuated with revenge, he claims that he will not rest until he hunts down the people that have “ruined” him and robbed him of his innocence: bullies from school, abusive foster parents, and the two men that brutally murdered his and Mikey’s parents. As Frank begins to settle down with his new but peculiar life, he soon realizes that he’s falling in love with the cold-blooded killer. To Frank’s surprise, Gerard is doing the same exact thing in return...at least, that’s what it seems to him...</p><p>WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS MATERIAL SOME READERS MAY FIND UPSETTING. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drugstore Perfume

**Author's Note:**

> *momiji_neyuki is temporarily a co-author of this fic to help me with formatting, since I'm a newb to this site*

 

 

 

 

I never thought in all my mere twenty-three years on this planet that I’d ever say this to myself: I have become used to living out on the streets of New York City. I have come to terms with the fact that I haven’t had a shower in days...no, weeks. Damn it, months (and yes, it is just as bad as it really sounds, smelling like the armpit of NYC and all). I have learned over a course of time to swallow my pride and go dumpster diving just to find scraps of food that will be my dinner. I have come to accept the fact that sometimes a pile of newspapers or a cardboard box is the best I can get my hands on when it comes to finding a place to sleep for the night. I really hate to sound like a Debbie Downer, but when you’re a jobless twenty-three year old college dropout whose parents have kicked out of the house for his sexual orientation, things obviously aren’t gonna be all sunshine and roses. And no-I did have a job, and I did go to a community college part-time prior to being thrown out, so I wasn’t thrown out for being a complete loser who just sucked his parents dry of human resources like a leech. I was thrown out because my secret was revealed to them, and it was a secret that their conservative Catholic asses didn’t take too well-I’m gay.

  
Now that I look back at that dreadful day, I really wish that there could have been a better way I could have come out to my parents, rather than being forced out of the closet because one of your “friends” from college couldn’t keep his mouth shut. But, does it really matter now? It doesn’t. What’s happened has happened. Mom and dad found out that I’m gay, they got pissed, and told me to get the hell out of the house, and to never come back. There’s no way I can go back in time and stop Derek from opening his big mouth and revealing my true self. All I can do is move on and live in the present, I suppose. If I sit here and mope about how I’ve been mistreated, I’ll end up becoming a human icicle in this freezing weather. A hoodie, jeans, and a pair of Converse shoes definitely aren’t the appropriate attire for the winter, let alone in NYC in the middle of November. I am fucking cold and I need a place to get warm before I have to venture out again to find a passable place to sleep for tonight. I sit up from the bench I’ve been laying on in fetal position for the last hour or so and briefly stretch before setting out for my next designated location of warmth.

  
As I walk down the sidewalk, something just dawns on me-I feel like complete shit. I am tired. I am hungry. I am filthy. And, obviously, I am freezing. I realize what I need right now. Other than a warmer jacket, some food in my stomach, a hot shower, and a place to sleep, I need a drink. Yes, I know-Alcohol is the last thing to be thinking of consuming when you’re homeless. But you know what? It really hurts knowing you’re in a really bad place in your life, and I think it’s acceptable to be able to escape from that reality temporarily with the help of a drink or two. It doesn’t even matter if I end up getting shitfaced and arrested for public intoxication; at least I’d have a place to stay. Sure, it’s jail, but it’s something. I’d have a place to sleep, food to eat, and clothes on my back. Bottom line, sometimes you’re just better off in jail. It may sound morbid, and even completely ludicrous to some people, but it’s true. I’m gonna be careful, though. I don’t wanna blow what little money I have left all on booze. I need money for other stuff, for bare necessities. I’m not sure what I’ll get yet. I’ll figure it out when I get my freezing ass in a bar.

  
I step inside a bar that, surprisingly, isn’t as packed as I feared it would be for a Saturday night. The seats at the bar table are only half-full, and there’s only maybe a few tables that are taken either by drunken sports nuts watching some football game on the big flatscreen or some lonesome women looking for a one-thirty dirty for the night (trust me, it’s obvious they’re desperately looking for a screw. I can tell by their skimpy attire and makeup-caked faces. I’m one to catch on to things rather quickly). I instantly feel a rush of relief as my body became consumed by the warmth of the indoors, but then, I begin to feel something else-a rush of nostalgia. My nose is greeted by the scent of cheap drugstore perfume, very sweet yet so overpowering. What’s strange is that, somehow, I know this smell. I’ve been in contact with this aroma before...but when? Where? Maybe my mind is just playing games with me. You’d be surprised what your mind can do to you when you’ve been living out on the streets for God knows how long. I honestly can’t remember how long I’ve lived out on the streets. Obviously more than just a month or so; hell, even more than a few months. Maybe half a year? No...more than that. A part of me wants to know, but another part doesn’t.

  
I look back at the bar, finding a place to sit. But, as I do, my eyes suddenly lay upon someone who stood out amongst the group of common-folk within the bar. It appears to be a woman, her back facing me. She has a mass of large, curly brown hair, like an afro. She’s wearing a long, baby-pink dress and a pair of pearl-colored high heels. As I look at this woman, that previous surge of nostalgia and deja-vu hits me again, harder than before. Have I really met this woman before? This feeling within me becomes so profound that it almost frustrates me.

  
“Stop it, Frank” I tell myself. “Stop standing there like an idiot and sit your ass-”

  
“Frank?” a voice emerged. “Frank Iero? Is that really you?”

  
I look to see who’s calling me. To my surprise, it’s coming from the woman in the pink dress. She’s facing me, looking at me straight in the eye…

  
Wait a minute...she’s not a woman...it’s a man, clearly in drag. His face is made up, just not as heavy as the lonely sleazes. His brown eyes were wide with joy, glimmering within the darkness of the bar.

  
Holy shit...I definitely know this person! It’s Ray Toro!

  
“Ray? Hey, man! Good to see you!” I smile. I may have just walked in the right place at the right time. I don’t know if I should consider myself lucky or if this was the work of fate itself…

  
Ray stands up and walks...no, struts towards me and embraces me in a bear hug, the scent of the cheap perfume stronger than ever. His grasp binds me tightly, nearly crushing the bones in my frail and borderline malnourished body.

  
“Oh my god, Frank! I’m so happy see you! It’s been forever!” Ray exclaims, releasing me from his nearly lethal bear hug.

  
“It’s good to see you too, Ray. It has been a while. Didn’t think I’d be running into you here!”

  
“Tell me about it!” Ray crossed his arms. “By the way, what are you doing here anyway? You’ve never really been one to drink, Frank!”

  
Oh, god...how am I gonna explain my situation to an old friend from high school? This isn’t gonna be easy…

  
“Oh, it’s...kinda a long story, actually. What about you, Ray?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

  
“I actually just got back from a drag convention. It was fantastic! The conventions here downtown are always one hell of an experience,”

  
“I bet they are,” I laugh a little. Why am I not surprised that Ray would be at a drag convention, let alone one in New York City? It’s been years since Ray and I actually last saw each other, but he clearly hasn’t changed one bit. He’s still the same flamboyant, good-spirited, afro-sporting drag queen I remember from high school.

  
“Anyway, what’s been happening with you, Frank?” Ray asked, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom. “You look like you really...changed…”

  
I couldn’t help but notice the way he looked at me, like something was wrong with me. It wasn’t a look of disgust or anything like that, but rather of concern. I felt my chest tighten a bit. Do I really have to tell Ray what’s happened to me? That I’m left with no place to go because my parents kicked me out for being gay? I’m not worried about him judging me for my sexual preference, of course not. I’m worried about bringing him into my drama, which I really don’t want to do. I hate inviting others into my personal issues. All it does is cause more problems, more drama, more bullshit. The last time I did that, it resulted in me being disowned by my own mother and father, and left to rot out in the streets.

  
“Yeah...I guess so,” I began. “Hey, how about if we go and get a table?”

  
“Sure!” Ray replied. “My feet are getting sore in these damn heels, anyway.”

  
Ray and I make our way to a table away from all the other people in the bar and sit down. As I do, so many thoughts begin to race through my mind. I know Ray is gonna wanna know what’s going on, but how was I gonna tell him? Should I lie to him and tell him everything’s alright? It’s not that I don’t trust Ray; we were both bullied a lot in high school for various reasons, like the rumors of me being gay due to my looks and such, and Ray was always one of the few people to stick up for me. It’s just that I feel like if I open up my mouth and say too much...something bad will happen. I also hate being pitied. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had people tell me they feel sorry me for whatever reason, especially ever since I became homeless. It just annoys the living hell out of me. Nobody should feel sorry for me. They had nothing to do with any of the bad things that happen to me, so why should they even care? I’m no one special. I’m just another queer with an emo haircut and parents that hate him.

  
“Hey, Frank...how old are you now?” Ray asked.

  
“Turned twenty-three last month,” I replied.

  
“That’s what I thought! I was a senior and you were a little freshman when we met back in high school. Good times, man,”

  
“Yep. Why do you ask?”

  
“Just wondering if you want something to drink...now that you’re legal,” Ray sang.

  
“Damn it, Ray” I laughed. “I dunno...maybe just a rum n’ Coke?”

  
“Alright, rum n’ Coke it is!” Ray reached in his wallet and pulled out some cash.

  
“Wait, Ray” I say, stopping him. “I’ll pay. It’s my drink,” I reach in my pocket for my wallet, rummaging for money. I don’t want to have my friend pay for my daily dose of poison for the night. I always feel kinda bad when others pay for my stuff. I know, kinda strange coming from a homeless man, right? Truthfully, having others wanting to pay for my stuff, whether it be a drink, food, whatever, I always decline. There have been a handful of times I’ve had people offer to buy me food or give me a couple bucks, but I always told them to not even bother. Why? It’s just another example of pitying me, which as previously stated, I absolutely hate. Nobody should have to worry about me. Nobody should worry about trying to look like a good person for helping some homeless loser like me out. I can take care of myself. I’ve managed to not die in all the x amount of months I’ve lived out on the streets.

  
“Nah, Frank. Don’t worry about it. It’s on me,”

  
“You sure? I don’t want to be a mooch,”

  
“You’re not being a mooch, Frank. Friends help each other out, right?”

  
“I suppose. Alright. Thanks,” I smile a little, giving in to Ray’s offer. I put my wallet back in my pocket. I’ll let it slide this time, I suppose. Why the hell not? It’s actually someone I know, and not some random stranger, after all.

  
“Hey, no problem. You look like you need a drink anyway. Just trying to help out,” Ray smiled. He got up from his seat and walked over to the bartender. A few moments later, Ray returned to our table with a glass of rum n’ Coke in his hand. He sat down and handed the drink to me.

  
“Thanks,” I say, bringing the drink to my lips. I take a sip, satisfied with the just about perfect mixture of the liquor and soda. Not too much rum, but not too much Coke either. Just right. I can’t even remember the last time I had a drink. It doesn’t matter, though. It feels good to be able to self-indulge for the night.

  
“No problem, man,” Ray grins briefly. He looks up at me again, with that same dreadfully concerned look on his face from earlier. Oh, no…

  
“So, Frank...I’m sorry if this sounds too abrupt, but…” Ray sighs. “Is everything alright?”

  
“Yeah, why?” I reply, playing dumb.

  
“I dunno, Frank...not to be mean, but something about you just doesn’t seem right. I don’t mean to pry, but I’m just...a little worried. I know it’s been years since we last saw each other, which was when you graduated from high school, but...you’ve changed so much,”

  
“You said that before,”

  
“I know, but...I can’t help but notice such a change in you. It’s so...profound,”

  
“How so?” I ask, still playing dumb.

  
“Like...in high school, I remember you always being so concerned with how you look. You always did your hair nice and dressed nice, too. You also look like you lost so much weight...not saying you were fat or anything, but...you look so freaking thin now. Too thin, in fact,”

  
“Well...maybe I went on a diet?” I say, trying to change the topic. He is right, though. I have changed. It’s clear as day. I smell like shit because I obviously haven’t had a shower in months, and I remember being a little bit of a hygiene freak in high school, showering every day before school and washing my hands thousands of times a day. My clothes may as well be rags at this point, because the last time I changed my clothes was probably weeks ago, and said clothes were salvaged from the dumpster. My once neatly kept black hair is now tangled and so greasy it makes me cringe. And, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m indeed skinny. I remember having self-image issues throughout high school, especially with my weight. I never was even close to fat, yet for some reason I kept lying to myself that I needed to be skinnier. However, I never imagined I’d ever let myself get so skinny to the point that my ribs would become visible. Saying that I’m skinny at this point would be an understatement.

  
“Frank...I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s the case,” Ray sighed. “I think you’re hiding something from me,”

  
“So you’re calling me a liar?” I reply defensively. Ray needs to stop. Now.

  
“No, it’s just that…” Ray looked down at his drink and rubbed his forehead, looking defeated. He sighed again, closing his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them up again, looking at me again straight in the eye.

  
“Alright, I’ll be honest with you. Something is clearly not right with you, Frank. Something happened, but I don’t know what it is. You were nowhere like this, Frank. You are definitely not the same person I remember from high school. I know people change, but...this just seems too dramatic. Too contrasting. Too much unlike your usual self. Something’s definitely gone wrong,”

  
I stood there frozen, unsure of what to say. Ray’s clearly not that dumb; he never was. I remember Ray being very intelligent, in fact. He was always in Honors classes and exceeded at a ton of things. Of course he’s not gonna believe my lies and excuses. Who am I really fooling? I feel like such a dumbass…

  
Defeated, I bury my hands in my face and exhale. I look back up at Ray, looking and feeling like a complete idiot. What the hell was I gonna say?

  
“Frank, don’t be upset,” Ray put a hand on my shoulder, his touch gentle. “There’s no need to feel any shame. Everyone at some point is at a bad place in their time, and the best we can do is rise from our ashes. And sometimes, the best way to do that is to seek help...and that’s exactly what friends are for. You can tell me anything, Frank. I won’t judge you. I won’t think of you any lesser than I do now. You’re my friend, and all I wanna do is help,”

  
Fuck it. I gotta tell him. There’s no backing out now. Now that I think about it, what’s so bad about telling Ray? He already knows about me being gay. He already knows how my parents have been. Ray was one of the very few people I’ve confided my issues to throughout high school, and never judged me. He never stabbed me in the back either, unlike my other “friend” Derek did. What’s the point of hiding everything now? What’s the worst that could happen? I have to tell him.

  
“Ray...you’re right,” I began. “There is something wrong with me,”

  
“Would you mind telling me?” Ray asked.

  
“I’ll tell you, as long as you promise me something?”

  
“What?”

  
“Don’t pity me. Please?” I ask. That’s the one thing I don’t want him to ever do.

  
“I won’t,”

  
“You promise?”

  
“Promise,”

  
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then exhaled, preparing myself. We sat there in complete silence. It was only for like a few minutes or so, but to me, it felt like hours.

  
“Ray...you remember how my parents have been, right?” I began.

  
“Yeah, I do. They were pretty strict on you,”

  
“Yeah, no shit,” I reply, laughing a little. “Anyway...you remember that time I confessed to you about...me being gay?”

  
“Definitely,”

  
“Yeah, well...my mom and dad found out...and they obviously didn’t take that too well,”

  
“How did that happen?”

  
“Long story short, some person I used to think was a friend of mine turned out to be a backstabber, and told them,”

  
“Who?” Ray asked. “Because I never said I thing to anyone,”

  
“Oh, no. It wasn’t you. Hell, no. It was someone else I met while I was going to college,”

  
“Oh, I see. So what happened after your parents found out?”

  
I paused. This was definitely gonna be the hardest part. I can already feel it; butterflies fluttering in my stomach, chest tightening, head throbbing. Fuck me…

  
“They... they kicked me out of the house…” I began, nearly faltering on my own words. “...and told me to never come back…”

Ray’s mouth dropped open, eyes full of devastation.

  
“Are you serious?”

  
“Why would I lie, Ray?”

  
“No, I’m not saying you’re lying, but...my god…” Ray covered his mouth with both his hands, eyes still brimming with utter shock. He looked like he just saw a ghost.

  
“How long have you...been like this?” he asked.

  
“Honestly...I’ve lost track of time,” I took another sip of my drink, trying to relieve myself of the anxiety and pressure I brought upon myself. It was futile. I was shaking. My stomach hurts. My chest hurts. My head hurts. What the hell have I done?

  
Ray was clearly at a loss of words. I feel like such an asshole now for making my friend feel this way. I no longer care if he pities me now. I just regret telling him everything because not only did I force myself to retell the tale of my downfall, but I also made Ray upset. Goddamnit, Frank...who the hell do you think you are?

  
“Frank...I have something to ask you,” Ray spoke after what felt like hours of silence.

  
“What?” I reply reluctantly.

  
“How about if…” Ray paused. “You come stay at my place for a while?”

  
What? Is he serious? No. He can’t be…

  
“What do you mean?” I ask dumbly.

  
“You know, come stay with me for a while,” Ray replied.

  
“Like...live with you?”

  
“Yeah. With me, and some others…” He smiled.

  
I can’t believe it. Ray is willing to let me move in with him? Is he really that courteous? Then again, Ray’s always had a huge heart for others, which was likely why him and I were good friends in high school. I just cannot help the fact he’s so willing to let me move in. And there’s other people living with him? I’m kinda curious who, come to think of it…

“Who else is living with you?” I ask.

  
“Well, first there’s Bob. Remember him?”

  
“Bob Bryar? Of course,”

  
Bob is one of Ray’s good friends from high school. I knew him a little bit, but I wasn’t as close to him as I was with Ray. From what I remember about him, he was always a complete slacker...and a stoner. If he wasn’t at school, which was rare for him since he ditched a lot, he was at his house high as a kite, eating Doritos and watching either Cheech and Chong movies or rerun episodes of Mr. Bean. I also remember him being a pretty decent drummer. If he wasn’t getting stoned (which was almost every day) he was playing drums in his mom and dad’s garage. Him and Ray (whose guitar skills I deeply envied) did a lot of local gigs at teen clubs and hookah lounges.

  
“Yep, he lives with me. I get a little worried sometimes, because...well, this shouldn’t come as a surprise, but...he’s a pot grower, and that’s his source of income. I’m stunned he hasn’t managed to get caught once,”

  
“I’m not surprised at all,” I laughed. If there’s one thing that Bob’s always been good at besides drums, it was never getting caught. If he could have a dollar for every time he brought weed to school and never got caught, he’d be filthy rich.

  
“Yeah, so there’s him, and also Mikey. Not sure if you’ve met him, or…”

  
“Oh, I have. A few times,” I reply, remembering the vague memories of Mikey. Mikey was a scrawny shy kid that I’ve only had contact with a few times, mainly because other than him being shy, he went to a different high school. There used to be this local comic book store me and Ray would go to after school, where we would sometimes find Mikey. According to Ray, there have been a few times he’s actually joined in on his and Bob’s gigs as the bass player. I’ve never heard him play, but from what Ray and Bob have told me, he sounds pretty good.

  
“Yeah, he moved in with us some time after me and Bob settled in. He works two jobs, actually; one at a comic book store and another at a music store,”

  
“Oh, wow. Must be busy,”

  
“Definitely. It’s kinda a bummer he barely gets any time to rest and hang with the rest of us. At least he’s working jobs he likes though,”

  
“That’s true,” I take another sip from my rum n’ Coke, taking Ray’s offer in deep consideration. I certainly didn’t want to be living out on the streets anymore, but...what would it be like living with Ray, Bob, and Mikey? I’ve never been in a roommate situation before. It would definitely be a whole new experience for me. I still need to know more, though. I need to know full and well what kind of offer I’m dealing with here…

  
“Is there anyone else that lives with you guys?” I ask.

  
The expression on Ray’s face changed almost dramatically. He went from smiles to a morbidly blank stare. He looked down, as if deeply thinking of what to say.

  
“Yes, actually…” he said in a whispered tone.

  
“Who?”

  
“His name’s Gerard,”

  
Gerard? Never heard of him. I’ve never heard of that name from anyone, actually. There’s something about his name that’s kinda got a nice ring to it, but I can’t quite describe how…

  
“What’s he like?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

  
“Well...it’s kinda hard to explain,” Ray replied.

  
“How so?”

  
Ray sat there again, giving me the silent treatment. He took one last sip of his drink, emptying his glass.

  
“I’ll explain later. It’s kinda complicated right now,”

  
“Oh...alright…” I sigh, feeling kinda disappointed. There’s just a part of me that’s dying of curiosity to know what this Gerard guy is like. Why is Ray so reluctant to tell me about him? Ray made me confess why I’m in the state I am in now, yet he won’t tell me anything about one of his roommates? What the hell, man?

  
“So, Frank...what do you think?” Ray asked, smile back on his face.

  
There’s no way I can turn him down. I cannot stand another day living out on the streets. I’m sick of not being able to shower. I’m sick of being hungry every day. I’m sick of wearing the same pair of clothes every day. I’m sick of sleeping on the hard concrete floor every night. Chances are I’d have to find a job to help pitch in for rent or something like that, but I’d much rather do that than have absolutely no money and be homeless. That’s obvious. I’d be fucking crazy to say no.

  
“Ray...I’m in,” I said.

  
“Really? Great!” Ray exclaimed. He reached across the table and wrapped me in another bear hug.

  
“Not so tight!” I yell, fearing Ray will crush my whole body.

  
“Oh, sorry!” Ray laughed, releasing me. “I’m so happy! You made the right choice. Oh, this is just fantastic! I gotta call Bob about this!” Ray nearly started dancing at our table right there in front of everyone. I wanted to curl up in a ball and shun myself out of pure embarrassment.

  
“I will come and stay with you guys…” I said, stifling an ecstatic Ray.

  
“What?” he asked.

  
“...If you tell me more about this Gerard guy,” I smiled. The look on Ray’s face was absolutely priceless.

  
“Alright,” he sighed. “I’ll tell you when we get to my car. Deal?”

  
“Deal,” I chuckled, finishing up my drink.

  
This is it. The days of me living in the hell that is the streets of NYC are soon to be over. Today embarks a new journey for me. I will be living in a probably crappy apartment home with a drag queen, a stoner, a shy bass player, and a man named Gerard that’s a complete mystery. It may be pretty awkward at first, but hey, it beats being homeless. I know what the first thing I’ll do when I get to Ray’s house: take a fucking shower.


	2. The Sharpest Lives

I follow Ray out of the bar and to his vehicle- a white 1994 Mazda Protege, which has obviously seen better days, seeing how it’s got quite a few dents and scratches. I sit down in the front passenger seat and see that the inside of Ray’s car looks just as bad as the exterior; trash is piled to the brim all over the floor and the back seat. I never knew Ray for being a slob. If anything, he was always as much of a neat freak as I used to be in high school; I stopped caring about cleanliness by the time I graduated, which was also when my parents became less restrictive on household chores.  
“Sorry about the mess, Frank. Bob and I share this car, and he obviously never cares to clean up after himself,”  
“It’s alright, Ray. I don’t mind,” I reply.  
“Oh, good,” Ray starts the car, the engine chugging then roaring to life. “Oh, by the way…” he glances over at me, smirking. “Call me Ramona...if you don’t mind, that is,”  
“Oh...yeah, that’s fine,”  
“Great!”  
Ramona? Ray apparently has gone so far in his anti-masculine lifestyle that he prefers others call him by a feminine name? I’m honestly not surprised at all…  
I suddenly think of what Ray...no, wait, Ramona and I discussed earlier-Gerard, the roommate that Ramona was so reluctant to tell me about. I’ve gotta remember to bring it up to him. I don’t know what it is exactly, but there’s just a part of me that’s dying of curiosity to know who this guy is. What’s he like? Maybe just one of Bob’s stoner friends, or one of Ray’s (or Ramona’s) drag fanatics. If either of these are true, why is Ramona so unwilling to tell me anything about him? While I think about all this, I patiently wait for Ray-damnit, no-Ramona to pull out of the parking lot and into traffic. As I do, Ray/Ramona turns on the car radio. “How Soon is Now” by The Smiths begins to play. With the music playing, Ray/Ramona and I sit in silence as we both ride out of town and on to the highway.  
“So, Frank…” Ray/Ramona began. “Now that you’re gonna be living with all of us...well, I hate to put a lot of pressure on you too quickly, there’s gonna be a catch…”  
I seriously don’t care what the catch is. Anything beats living homeless in the slums of New York City.  
“What’s that?” I asked.  
“You’re gonna have to get a job sooner or later. You know, for rent and all,”  
“Obviously,”  
“I’m not saying you have to find one right away. We’ll give you some time to settle in and get comfy, but after that, you gotta find a place to work. We’re struggling to keep up with living in this place as of right now, so we can use all the help we can get to keep a roof over our heads,”  
“I understand. How long do I have?”  
“You know, Frank...I’m not sure. But you do got time. Plenty. You’ve been through hell already, so you deserve a break,”  
I honestly don’t wanna wait too long until I have to find a way to get money. I’m sick of being broke. Plus I think I’d feel bad about living with everyone else and being the only one not working to pitch in for rent. It would obviously make me look like a mooch and just a lazy sack of shit.  
“You know what, Ray-oh, uh...Ramona….I’ll look around when I get the chance. I don’t wanna be the only one not working. I need to make money, anyway,”  
“You sure?” Ray/Ramona asked, his brows furrowed. “There’s no need to be in a hurry,”  
“I know, but I feel like I should find a job as soon as time allows. It would keep me busy. Plus there’s things I’d want to invest in besides helping you guys pay rent,”  
“That’s true. I just felt like you’d want some time to settle down before you do that, considering what’s happened to you,”  
“Don’t worry about it. Shit happens, anyway. All you can do is pick yourself back up and move on. I think tomorrow morning I’ll go job hunting and send in some applications, see who’s hiring,”  
“Alright then. That’s fine. I’ve got work the next morning, so don’t be surprised if I’m not there when you’re up,”  
“Okay. Where do you work, anyway?” I asked, curious of what kind of job someone like Ray/Ramona would have, considering the kind of attire he decides to display himself in out in the public.  
“Clothing store called Demi’s. I’m a cashier,”  
“Oh. Do they let you...you know, dress like...well, like how you are now?”  
“Sadly, no,” Ray/Ramona sighed. “But hey, at least I get to work around those kinds of clothes, so I guess that’s a plus,”  
“Sure,” I nod. I figure now is a good time to ask Ray/Ramona about this Gerard character. It shouldn’t hurt to ask now. After all, we made a deal, right?  
“So...ah, Ramona,” I started. “You said you’d tell me more about Gerard, right?”  
“Oh, right…” Ray obviously looked like he dreaded the moment I would bring it up. “Well, he’s...oh, how should I say this? Different,”  
“How so?”  
“Well, Frank...he…” Ray sighed again, stumbling over his words. “Okay, let’s just say that he isn’t one to socialize with people. He’s a loner. Y’know? Doesn’t like to be around others,”  
“Why not? He shy?” I ask, trying to milk out as much info as I can out of Ray/Ramona, which obviously didn’t please him at all.  
“Yeah, but...I think saying that would be an understatement. He’s more like an introvert,”  
“Really? How so?”  
“Oh my god, Frank. Do you not know what an introvert is?” Ray scoffed.  
“Yeah, I do. You’re just not being specific enough!” I replied defensively. I know what an introvert is, it’s someone that keeps to themselves and are pre-occupied with their inner thoughts and feelings. I’m not stupid.  
“Okay, he’s a recluse! He never leaves his room. He lives in a world of his own. There, you happy now?” Ray exclaimed, clearly annoyed.  
“Well, why doesn’t he ever leave his-”  
“Sweet mother of Christ on the hood of a Mercedes Benz!” Ray shouted, nearly making me jump out of my seat. “Who do I look like to you, Morgan Freeman? I’m not gonna sit here and narrate his whole life story to you! Just stay out of his way and you’ll be fine, okay?”  
“Oh...I’m sorry”  
I’ve obviously pushed Ray too far. Man, seeing him mad is kinda scary. I remembered Ray always being pretty easygoing. It was always so hard to piss him off. I’ve clearly pushed the wrong buttons too much. But still, why would Ray not want me to know much about this Gerard guy? From what little I now know about him, he’s an antisocial hermit that pretty much lives in his bedroom. That alone only makes me ask more questions about him...  
“I’m sorry, Frank” Ray suddenly said, breaking the awkward silence that formed between us. “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but just...just leave him alone, okay? Please?”  
“It’s alright, man. And sure, I’ll leave him be,”  
“Alrighty then. Ready to see your new home?” Ray asked in his usual upbeat sing-songy voice, pulling into the driveway of a small, white frame house.  
“Oh wait, we’re here already?” I asked, stunned by how brief the ride between downtown NYC to home felt.  
“Yep! Ready to come inside and say hello to everyone?”  
“Yeah, sure. Oh, before we go in, I got a question to ask,” I say, suddenly remembering the first thing I wanted to do in my new home, aside from saying hi to Bob and Mikey, of course. “You mind if I take a shower?”  
“Not at all, Frank. You live here now, don’t you? Go ahead, knock yourself out!” Ray laughed. “Okay, not literally, but...you know what I mean!”  
I step out of the car, feeling my heart race a little as we both make our way up to the front door. It’s gonna feel kinda strange reconnecting with some more people from high school, let alone living with them. It shouldn’t be that bad. Again, it beats being homeless.  
Ray opens up the front door and we both step through the front door and into the kitchen, immediately greeted by a strong scent of pot, which is undoubtedly coming from Bob, who’s likely stoned out of his mind by now.  
“Sup, Ramona?” a voice emerged from the living room down the hall. “How was the convention?”  
“It was great, Bob. Thank you,” Ray/Ramona replied. He waved a hand at me, prompting me to follow him. We walked through the kitchen and into the living room, seeing Bob slouched on the sofa with a plethora of junk food all around him, as well as a bong by his side (of course). Mikey laid on the couch across from Bob, his eyes focused on a comic book in his hand. Bob glanced up at us, his bloodshot eyes widened.  
“Frank? What’s up, man?” Bob smiled. “Hey, four eyes, look who it is!”  
“Stop calling me that, Bob! I know who it is!” Mikey replied, shooting Bob an irritated look.  
“How do you know, wise guy?”  
“Because, you just said his name,” Mikey glanced over at me, giving a brief wave before immediately returning to his comic book. “Hi, Frank,”  
“Hey, Mikey” I reply, seeing that Mikey hasn’t changed one bit since high school, just like Bob and Ray. He still wears glasses, he’s still thin as a twig, and most of all, he’s still a shy kid that’s infatuated with comic books.  
“Say, Frank...whaddaya been up to lately?” Bob asked, reaching for a bag of potato chips. “I know you and I never knew each other that well, but...you look so different. Nothing like how you were in high school,”  
I think Ray knew exactly how I felt after what Bob told me. I stood there, unsure how to explain myself. What was I supposed to tell Bob and Mikey, two people that I was not as close with as I was with Ray when we were all in school together? It would especially be awkward and uncomfortable around Mikey, since I've only met the kid a few brief times. Maybe it wouldn't really matter to him, since he's so focused on his comic book? Maybe the same goes for Bob, knowing the state he's in right now…  
No. That wouldn't even make it easier. I'm not safe no matter what. I gulped, feeling the hairs on my neck rise. I glanced over at Ray, lost in my own silence and anxiety. I don't wanna repeat my reason of being here and changing so much. It just hurts too much. I'm far from prepared...no, just...no…  
“It’s okay, Frank,” Ray whispered. “You go on and shower...I'll explain,”  
I looked back at Bob and Mikey. To my relief, they barely looked like they understood what was unfolding within me. Bob, dazed and confused, looked like he was more focused on his bag of chips than me. Mikey remained tuned out from everyone around him, his eyes still glued to his comic book. I sighed, nodding at Ray in approval.  
“Okay...thanks,” I smiled a little.  
“No worries, Frank. They're good people. They’ll understand. No need to wear yourself out,”  
Ray redirected me to the bathroom, handing me a pile of towels and a pair of pajamas, as well as some shampoo, conditioner, and body soap.  
“Get yourself cleaned up. I'll figure out where you can sleep for the night,”  
“Okay…,” I set the stuff down near the sink. “Oh, and...thanks again,”  
“No problem,” Ray grinned, shutting the door.  
Thanks again, Ray. Thanks for saving me from losing it. Thanks for sparing me an anxiety attack. Thanks for stopping me from looking like a complete idiot.  
I turn on the shower, undressing myself as I waited for the water to heat up. I step inside, letting the hot water soak my whole body. I don't think I've ever been happier to finally take a shower and be clean. As I lathered shampoo into my filthy wet hair, I began to realize something- I wasn't just taking a shower. I was washing away my old self. I was cleaning myself of my past of poverty, desolation, and near helplessness. This night I will not be sleeping in my own filth on the hard ground. I will be in a home. I will be clean. I will have a place I can call home that's not a pile of newspapers or a cardboard box. I smiled to myself, knowing that I can now kiss all those dreadful days goodbye.  
“So…you’re saying he's gonna be living with us?” A concerned voice came from outside of the bathroom. It sounded like Mikey’s. Looks like Ray has told him and Bob everything…  
“Well...yes,” Ray replied. “He needs a place to stay. He needs help. I just couldn't leave him like that out on the streets!”  
“No, Ray. I understand that, but...don't you remember what happened last time when we took someone our wing?”  
As I stood there lathering conditioner in my hair, I couldn't help but ask myself who Mikey is talking about. Could it possibly be about Gerard, the roommate Ray begged me to avoid? “Mikey…Frank is not like him. I know he isn't. He was my best friend in high school. You gotta believe me!”  
“C’mon, man!” Bob chimed in. “One more roommate shouldn't hurt. He can sleep on the futon out here. I'm sure he wouldn't mind,”  
“That's not the problem, Bob!” Mikey revolted. “I'm just scared...I'm scared of him getting hurt. Maybe he's not like...like him. Maybe, you're right about that, Ray. Frank sounds like a good guy. I just don't want Frank to go down there...where he is”  
Now I know what Mikey is talking about. He's gotta be talking about Gerard. I'll be damned if I'm wrong. Why is Mikey so paranoid about him, though? What is so bad about Gerard that makes Mikey and Ray beg me to not be around him? In fact, why would Ray be willing to let me stay with him, Bob and Mikey, despite warning me not to even go near this guy, who also lives with them? I just can't help but see a bunch of red flags popping up in moving to this new home. I very well may just have stepped into a very bad situation, like a trap. Maybe, just maybe, accepting Ray's offer was the beginning of something awful...But I hope to God I'm wrong. Oh, I really hope to God I am wrong…  
After lathering the soap off my body, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my wet, newly bathed body. I dried my hair using the towel and got dressed in the pair of pajamas Ray gave me, which consists of a plain white t shirt and gray sweatpants. It feels so good to finally be in a pair of new clean clothes after hell knows how long.  
“Don't worry, Mikey,” said Ray. “I already told Frank about him. I told him to just stay away from him. I swear, I made it clear to him. Trust me,”  
“Alright, Ray...because I don't wanna be the one to tell him. I really don’t,”  
“I know, Mikey. Just chill out. I got this,”  
“I hope you’re right, man,”  
There’s no way I can leave this to rest. I have to know what Ray and Mikey are hiding from me. I have to know who Gerard is. I really hate to go against the rules, but this is what happens when you’re someone with a lot of curiosity, maybe too much. I stepped out of the bathroom and down the hall, wanting to ask Ray if he’s figured out where I’m sleeping for the night (probably the futon out in the living room, like Bob’s mentioned before). But before doing so, there’s something I really wanted to do first. There’s a certain room I wanted to peek in really quick...just for a second. That’s all. I turn in the other direction away from the living room. I pass by one bedroom that’s adorned with a combination of Bob Marley posters and photos of famous drag queens, as well as a bunk bed (this is undoubtedly both Ray/Ramona’s and Bob’s room). Next, I walk past a bedroom that’s furnished with a twin-sized bed and a plethora of posters depicting comic book-related stuff, like Batman (definitely Mikey’s room). Then, at the very end of the hall, there’s a barren wooden door, obscured by the darkness of the hallway. No windows near the door, not even any pictures hung on the wall near it. It’s just that fucking door in the damn dark at the end of the hallway, like something straight outta a third-rate horror movie. I’ve never been one to be afraid of the dark, and I’m not one to get scared easily either, but I swear right now I’m a little bit freaked out. Just add some ominous music and BOOM, you’d have the perfect scene for some horror movie, or maybe a psychological thriller.  
Alright, enough horror movie talk. My curiosity is definitely getting the best of me. I step over to the door, nearly tiptoeing my way there after making sure no one else is in sight. My heart began to race faster the closer I got the the door. I swear I could also feel myself shake a little too.  
“Get your shit together, Frank...it’s just a door,” I tell myself. “Just a fucking door”  
I grab the doorknob and turn it, cracking the door open, which made a slight creaking noise (again, like something straight out of a horror/suspense movie). I peek inside only to find a set of stairs leading down to nothing but more darkness. So much that it may as well lead to a different dimension. How the hell can Gerard even see down there in a place so void of even a hint of light?  
“Don’t even think about it,” a sudden hand grabbed my shoulder, making me jump. I look behind me, nearly dropping dead from a heart attack.  
It’s Ray.  
“Oh, shit...you scared me,” I laughed uneasily, caught red-handed. Oh, fuck…oh fuck…  
“I know,” Ray smirked. “Got you good, didn’t I?”  
“Yeah...too good,”  
“Frank…” Ray sighed, “Please, for the love of God...don’t go down there. I know you’re hella curious, but...just...just please leave him alone,”  
“I was just peeking,” I reply, telling the truth. I wasn’t really gonna go down there...not tonight, at least…  
“Don’t even do that, Frank,” Ray crossed his arms. “Besides...the worst you can do is piss Gerard off...and he really hates it when people go down to his room unannounced,”  
I don’t really think I can blame Gerard. I hate it when people barge into my room like they own it...especially without knocking.  
“Alright, Ray. I’m sorry,”  
“It’s alright, man...just don’t do it again, okay?”  
“Okay,” I said, following Ray away from the door and down the hall to the living room.  
“Anyway, we think for now we’ll have you sleep on the futon out in the living room. Is that alright?” Ray said, pointing to a fold-out futon near a coffee table. “I’m sorry it ain’t much, but...it’s all we got,”  
“That’s okay. It’ll do just fine. It’s way better than a pile of newspapers,”  
“That’s true,” Ray laughed. “You all good? I think we’re all gonna crash pretty soon. I gotta get up early for work, same with Mikey. So that’ll just leave you and Bob…”  
And Gerard.  
“Alright, Ray. I think I’m gonna go to bed, too. Goodnight, man,”  
“See you in the morning,” Ray sang, leaving me with the futon.  
I get myself under the covers, savoring the warmth and comfort of lying on the cheap futon. I honestly don’t care if I gotta sleep in the living room every night. It doesn’t matter to me that I don’t have a room of my own to sleep in. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: it’s better than a pile of newspapers, or a cardboard box. As I shut my eyes, I couldn’t help but keep thinking of Gerard. What could he be doing right now? Sleeping like everyone else, and soon me? Is he really as antisocial as Ray makes him out to be? If so, why? Doesn’t he ever get lonely living all by himself down there?  
As I asked myself more and more questions about the man living in the basement, I felt my eyes grow heavy, and before I knew it, I was asleep...and on this night, it wasn’t in an abandoned alley behind a dumpster.


	3. Tragician

I was almost impressed with how early I managed to wake myself up. I glanced over at the clock on the wall-it’s 6:45. I crawled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, finding Ray at the table eating a bowl of cornflakes. For once in a very long time, he is not in drag. Instead, he is dressed in a white button-up top and a pair of blue jeans.  
“You’re up early,” he said, munching on his cereal.  
“Yeah, I am. Told you I was gonna be up early to look for a job, didn't I?”  
“That's true,” Ray nodded. “Speaking of work, I just thought of something. There's this concert venue close to us that's actually hiring right now,”  
“Really?” My eyes lit up. “What's it called?”  
“The Tragician. A lot of local bands play there, mostly on the weekends. Me, Bob and Mikey played there a few times. I figured since that's pretty much your thing that you'd be interested in applying there much rather than something like a grocery store or a fast food joint. You know, lame stuff?”  
“That's true,” I laughed, looking back at the bitter memories of my old job, working long hours for shitty pay at a local department store stocking shelves. “Do you know what positions this place is hiring for?”  
“Not sure. It shouldn't hurt to go look into it,you know?” Ray said, finishing up his cornflakes.  
“Yeah, totally. Where's it at?”  
“It’s over at the corner of West and Polk Avenue. I would drive you over there to take a peek, but I got work,”  
“That's alright. I can take a taxi,”  
“You sure? You got money? I can give you some,” Ray reached for his wallet.  
“Nah, I got it covered,” I replied, not wanting to come off as a mooch, like the usual. “I should have enough,”  
“Alright, man. Suit yourself. I should be home by three,” Ray stood up and made his way to the front door. “If you need to call me about anything, there's my number on the table,” he pointed over at the counter, where a piece of paper with his number scribbled on it laid.  
“Thanks,” I said, taking the paper and putting it in my pocket.  
“See ya,” Ray exited out the front door, leaving me alone in the kitchen. Feeling my stomach growl with hunger, I grab a couple slices of bread and place them in the toaster. As I wait for my breakfast to be finished, thoughts of last night came to my mind...thoughts about the basement, where Gerard lives. Now that Ray and Mikey are not here, would now be a good time to go down there? Maybe not. It's only like, what, seven in the morning? The worst I could do right now is go down there while Gerard is asleep and wake him up. If he's the kind of person that hates being bothered by unannounced visitors, then chances are he'd really hate it if someone were to interrupt him from his beauty sleep. There's a better time and place to quell all my curiosities about this man.  
After eating my toast, I got changed into some clothes Mikey let me borrow, since the both of us are skinny twigs. I phoned up a taxi service and made my way outside, waiting for it to arrive. It only took about a half hour or so to arrive, and even less time to take me to my destination: The Tragician.  
The place looks like any other local concert venue, nothing too much out of the usual. It has the resemblance of a movie theater, displaying posters for upcoming shows, but of bands rather than films. I walked over to the front door, finding a small poster with the words “Help wanted. Apply inside” written on it. I can't help but wonder exactly what kind of help this place needs. Whatever it is, I'm willing to take it. I can easily picture myself working at a concert venue much more than a grocery store or a department store, dealing with pompous managers and rude customers on an almost daily basis. I already got a taste of that from my last job, and I of course want nothing to do with it now. Even if this place doesn't take me, I'm at least willing to give it a chance.  
I step inside the building, which is of course empty. There's a small ticket booth near the door, followed by a plethora of more band tour posters, ranging from pop punk to heavy metal. Further down the hall is a walkway that leads to an upstairs balcony, and another one that leads to the main floor of the stage. I step inside the room where the main stage is, the floor scattered with remains from what looks like last night's show-empty water bottles, trash, and even abandoned clothing garments like shoes, and-unsurprisingly-bras. What's sorta ironic is that the place has a very old feeling to it, like this place used to be an old movie theater or an opera house, seeing how the theater is adorned with old statues and floral paintings from God knows how long ago. I'm convinced that this place most likely wasn't originally a place where teenagers can go to hang out and see local rock bands play, but rather a place of gathering for a more sophisticated group of people, like older couples gathering to see a symphony or an award-winning play. I'm sure if the people who built this place were all still alive to see what became of their fancy project, they'd drop dead from devastation.  
I honestly really like the looks of this place, despite it being empty and trashed. I can only imagine how it is in the evening when there's a show for a good band. I can honestly say that I can picture myself going to an actual concert here, rather than some small gig for a crappy garage band at some local teen club or bar. It would also be one hell of an experience working here. I guess maybe these guys are looking for someone to check tickets and IDs at the door, or maybe someone to clean up the place after a show. Whatever it may be, I'm willing to take it. I kinda really wanna work here now, but first I gotta find the guy that runs this place-  
“Excuse me?” A sudden voice emerged. I jumped and turned around, finding a short, blonde-haired woman with thick-rimmed glasses and a plethora of tattoos. She looks to be somewhere in her mid to late twenties.  
“Oh, sorry!” She said, smiling awkwardly. “Didn't mean to scare you,”  
“Oh, it's fine. No worries,” I replied, thinking about how she had been standing there behind me. I swear, she may as well have teleported to where I was. I didn't hear a damn thing when she walked up to me, not even the clicking of her high heels.  
“I'm not sure if this is the case, but…” the tattooed lady paused, her eyes scanning around the room. “Are you here for our job opening?”  
“I am, actually,” I said, almost convincing myself that this woman can also read minds as well as teleport. “I heard about this place from a friend of mine. He told me you guys are hiring,”  
“Oh, we really need help,” she sighed remorsefully. “We’re almost desperate. Who told you about us?”  
“Ray Toro. He told me he and a few others played here a few times, if I'm not mistaken,”  
“Ray? You mean Ramona?” The lady’s eyes lit up, her voice filled with joy. She looked like she just won the lottery. “You know that guy?”  
“Yeah, I went to high school with him. I actually just moved in with him and some of his friends that also played here, which is kinda why I need a job right now,”  
“That's awesome! We can really use somebody, especially someone that knows some of the guys that play here. My name's Monique, by the way. I'm the manager of this place,” she held out her manicured hand, every inch covered in tattoos.  
“I'm Frank,” I shook Monique's hand. “Nice to meet you,” I didn't really expect someone by the looks of her to run a place like this. Not that that's a bad thing, it isn't at all. I just kinda expected the manager to be someone a little older, more conservative-looking, and maybe even male. This girl here looks like someone that would maybe go to quite a lot of the shows here, but not work here, let alone be the manager.  
“You too, thank you. Why don't you come with me? I'll give you some more details about the job, if you want,”  
“Absolutely,”  
“Alright, follow me. We’ll head to my office,” Monique turns around and makes her way out to the hallway, her high heels clicking on the hard wooden floor. I follow her down the hall and up a small set of stairs past the band merch booths. We walk inside her office which is adorned with band posters and autographed photos. She sits down at her desk, promoting me to sit down at a chair set in front of it.  
“Quite a place you got here,” I said, trying to break the awkward silence that had begun to grow between us. “Sounds like you...uh, know quite a lot of bands here,”  
“Well, yeah!” Monique snorted. “I run this place, after all. Anyways…” her tone dramatically changed from upbeat to sullen. “We could really use your help. We had some guys quit unexpectedly, and ever since that's happened, it's been a mess,”  
“Well, what kind of help you looking for exactly?” I asked.  
“All kinds of stuff, honestly. Cleaning up after shows, taking tickets at the doors, throwing out people that wanna be assholes and cause a ruckus at a show, check IDs and hand out bracelets to people that wanna drink-you are 21, right?” Monique eyed me skeptically.  
“I'm 23, actually,” I replied.  
“Seriously?” Monique's brows furrowed. “You look so much younger than that! I was almost starting to think you were young enough to still be in high school!”  
“Nope, that chapter is done,” I laughed a little. I am not at all surprised she would think I look much younger than my actual age. I am not sure why that is. I get it so much from a lot of people that it's almost ridiculous.  
“So yeah, all that stuff I just listed? That's what you’ll be doing, pretty much. Sound good?”  
“Yeah, totally,” And now for the big question. “What's the hourly pay? What would my hours be?”  
“Twelve bucks an hour. On an average week, you'll be looking at about twenty-five to thirty hours a week,” Monique smiled.  
Twelve bucks an hour? Holy shit. That right there is more pay than any of my last jobs, all of them I hated for one reason or another. Plus, with that many hours a week, I would be making a pretty decent amount of money. There's no way in hell I can turn this offer down. I'd be crazy to decline such a deal.  
“So…,” Monique continued, folding her hands on top of her desk. “Are you in?”  
“Sign me the hell up!” I exclaimed.  
“Great!” Monique grinned, pulling out a folder and handing me a stack of papers. “Just read over and sign these papers, then you're in!”  
Without hesitation, I grabbed a pen from a mug on her desk and skimmed through all the papers, scribbling my name down on each one. I'm not gonna even bother going around town to turn in job applications. There's just nothing that can top this kind of job. I would be working a decent amount of hours in a concert venue, and make a shit ton of cash in the process (okay, maybe not a shit ton, but more than I have ever been paid at my previous jobs). I just couldn't ask for anything better than this right now. I probably look like a dillweed with a smile stretched across my face right now, but what does it matter?  
“Oh, I got a favor to ask,” Monique added. “Would you be so kind to help me clean up the mess in the stage room? It was a really crazy show last night, and...let's just say I didn't come prepared,” Monique eyed her high heels, clearly having second thoughts about her choice of footwear. “You'll be paid handsomely,” she sang.  
“Of course,” I said, finishing up signing the papers. If cleaning up the place is gonna take a while, it’s probably a good idea to call up Ray. While I'm at it, I should tell him the good news of my new (pretty rad) job.  
“Is it alright if I call up Ray real quick? I'm gonna tell him I got the job,”  
“Be my guest. I'll meet you in the stage room. I'll get us both set up to start cleaning,” Monique stepped out of the office, leaving me alone. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Rays number. He answered after the second ring.  
“Hello?”  
“Hey, it's Frank,”  
“Hey, how’s it going?”  
“I got some good news, man,”  
“What's that?”  
“I got the job!”  
“At The Tragician? Sweet!” Ray exclaimed. “What are your hours? What's the pay?”  
“They said I'll be working about twenty-five to thirty hours a week for twelve dollars an hour,”  
“Really? That's awesome! Congratulations!”  
“Thanks, man. I'm gonna be helping Monique clean the place up, which I'll get paid for. Not sure how long it'll be, so I'm just giving you a heads-up that I might be gone for a while  
“Oh, Monique is there? Tell her I said hi!”  
“Sure thing. Talk to you later?”  
“Yeah, I gotta get back to work. See ya, Frank,”  
I hung up and began to make my way down to the stage room, where Monique and are soon to clean up the remnants of last night's show. As I stepped out of Monique's office, I suddenly realized something. It's my first day with a new roof above my head and I've already managed to find a job; a very good one, in fact. I don't know if this is the work of fate, or if I just so happened to luck out. Whichever it may be, I hope to God this is all real. I swear, all of these sudden changes just almost makes me believe that any minute I'll wake up on the hard concrete floor, sleeping on a pile of newspapers in a dark alley.

After what seemed like several hours of me and Monique cleaning, I left the Tragician and waited outside on a bench for the taxi arrive. I checked the time on my phone- it’s a little past four, which means Ray should be home from work, like he said. Unfortunately, that also means I have a lesser chance of sneaking down in the basement to finally get a chance to meet Gerard. Throughout the whole day cleaning the Tragician, my mind stayed focused not only on my new job, but also on the apparent “introvert” living in the basement of my new home. I just can't help but wonder what he spends his days doing down there. How in the hell has he not ever gone stir crazy or bored out of his mind staying in one place for so long day and night? Doesn't he ever get lonely being down there all by himself? I myself have never been very social or outgoing, but every once in a while I feel the need to at least talk to someone and leave the house for a while. There's just gotta be a way I can be able to sneak down there without Ray or Mikey around; I’m not sure of Bob would really give a shit, knowing how he is. He'd be too busy being stoned, eating Oreos and watching episodes of Mr. Bean. I refuse to believe that this Gerard guy is just someone that lives his life downstairs in the dark because...well, just because. There's something Ray and Mikey are hiding from me, and I'm willing to do just about anything to find out what it is.


	4. Hesitant Alien

I stepped out of the taxi and made my way to the front door, opening it. After taking off my coat and shoes, I began to realize something- it was quiet. Too quiet. Oddly quiet. Ray told me he'd be home around three, and it's just past five right now, so chances are he should be home by now.  
“Ray?” I called out. I looked around the kitchen and made my way down the hall into the living room, still not finding anyone-  
“Surprise!” A mass of people jumped up from behind the sofas, none of them I recognize, except of course for Ray, Bob, and Mikey. They were all, for some reason, all wearing party hats and throwing confetti in my direction.  
Okay, just what the hell is going on? It's definitely not my birthday. That was more than a month ago.  
“Congratulations!” Ray exclaimed, running up to me and patting me on the back.  
“Uh, Ray…” I looked around the room, trying to figure out just what exactly is taking place. “What is this?”  
“What do you think it is? We threw you a surprise party to congratulate you on your new job! At the Tragician!”  
Oh. Duh.  
“Oh,” I said, feeling dumb for just now realizing what this whole thing is all about. “Really?”  
“Yeah! We brought some friends over to celebrate,” Ray replied, stating the obvious. “So, whaddaya think?”  
I really don't know what to think. I really do appreciate Ray and the others throwing a party for me to congratulate me on my new job, I really do. But...did they have to bring over so many people? I am honestly not very good in huge crowds of people (except at concerts, of course. At times like that I feel like I'm with family, all coming to one place to...well, go fucking nuts and have a good time while...well, insert band name here jams out on the stage). I can't really go as far as to say I have a legitimate social anxiety problem, it’s just that I feel extremely uncomfortable around plenty of people, especially ones I don't know. I don't know why, though. I never bothered to care.  
“It's...awesome. Thanks, man,” I smiled awkwardly, trying to not look like a shy, antisocial dork. I looked around the room, finding plenty of drinks and red Solo cups, as well as-of course-Bob’s bong, and other ones some of the partygoers brought along. I definitely know what kind of party this is gonna be; a party where you're with a bunch of people you don't know and will probably never see again, getting wasted and staying up until you pass out from being too drunk or high...or both. I just hope to God I don't end up doing anything I'll end up regretting the next day…which is probably why I shouldn't let myself get too wasted...or take a hit from Bob’s bong.

A few drinks later (and probably a few hours later as well) and I am surprised I'm still sober. Maybe it's because I decided to pass on Bob’s offer to get stoned with Ray and Mikey, who are both now laughing hysterically at absolutely nothing and munching on chips. Hell, I'm probably the only one that isn't drunk or high right now. Everyone else is either dancing drunkenly to the loud music, grinding up against one another, or passed out cold on the floor from one too many drinks. This is exactly why I was never much of a party animal-I’m too scared to get too tipsy, while everyone else does, and being the only sober one at the party always feels pretty awkward. It’s not like I can go to bed right now; I'm far from tired, and even if I was, it would be pretty hard to fall asleep when you're around a bunch of wasted people with loud music blaring.  
That's it. I need to get away from this. I can't sit here and waste the night away painstakingly waiting for it to end while everyone else around me is clearly not sober. I stepped out of the living room and into the kitchen, deliberating my options on how to spend the rest of my night. I just can't be the only sober one here…  
Wait. What about Gerard? What is he doing right now? Maybe now is my chance to go down and say hi, maybe get him to come upstairs and join the party? I may not be the best at parties, but I gotta admit, I feel bad he's not a part of it. It shouldn't hurt to at least ask him to come up for a while and have a good time, while getting some time away from that dark basement. Even if he declines my offer, it's fine. At least I would have attempted to get him to get out of his supposed social shell a little. Since Ray and Mikey are both clearly not on their most alert state of mind, this is probably now my chance to find out just who-and what-lies down in that basement.  
I walked down the hall, looking around the place to make sure the coast was clear of any onlookers, especially Ray and Mikey. After doing so, I opened up the door and stepped through, again greeted by pure darkness. I pulled out my cell phone for some light and began to make my way downstairs, shutting the door behind me. All the noise from the party throughout the house seemed to have instantly vanished the second the door closed, leaving me in pure silence. My nose became filled to the brim with the stench of mildew, so much it made my stomach churn. The vibes from last night at the door of the basement suddenly returned to me, stronger than before. I was stepping into forbidden territory, alone in the dark.  
I made my way down to the bottom of the stairs, finding masses of junk scattered throughout what looks like a living room; there's a sofa that's of course covered in trash, as well as a coffee table and a television. I don't know what the carpet is like because it's also covered to every inch in garbage. The whole place is literally a dumping ground for someone’s trash, like something you'd see straight out of an episode of some reality show about hoarders. I also noticed there’s also a little kitchen area near the supposed living room, complete with a refrigerator, sink, and a microwave, which is also, of course, as filthy as the other furnishings of the room. Ray was definitely right about one thing about Gerard: he definitely does live down here. This is his home, and it's a fucking pigsty. I can only imagine how much worse his bedroom must be...and dear God, the bathroom too.  
Overpowered by the stench of trash and mildew, I covered my nose and mouth, feeling myself just inches away from puking out the three hard ciders I consumed throughout the night, as well as horderves. As I did, something caught my eye- the walls. The walls are covered to every inch in what appears to be someone's artwork, artwork that’s beautiful and vibrant and colorful, contrast to the mortifying rubbish scattered amongst the floor. I focused the light of my cell phone on one of the pictures, which appears to be a sketch of scenery painted in watercolors; there's someone's signature scribbled on the bottom right hand corner. I expected it closely, trying to read out the artist's name…  
Gerard Way  
He really made this? He made all of these pieces of artwork? There's a wide variety of them all over the walls, from murals to self-portraits to drawings of comic book superheroes and villains. I scanned some of the other pictures, finding the same name scribbled on them all in the same place as the watercolor sketch. I just couldn't help but stare in awe. This must be what Gerard does in his spare time. Whoever this guy Gerard is, he may be a slob, but also a damn good artist...so good that it kinda made me jealous, but in a good way. I now feel like I'm in some sort of museum; a museum of one person's artwork, a person that clearly seems to be a genius...a genius with a cleanliness problem.  
I turned around and made my way down a small hallway, passing a room with the door slightly ajar. I peeked inside, quickly noticing it's the bathroom, which is just as filthy as the living room and kitchen, just as I feared. Right in front of me across the bathroom door is a single door, obscured in the shadows. This has to be Gerard's room. I'll be damned if isn't.  
I gulped, feeling butterflies in my stomach. This is it, the moment of truth. I now finally get to reveal what Ray and Mikey were so urgent to hide from me, the person they told me to stay away from, the supposed recluse named Gerard Way.  
I must admit, I don't think I came prepared. My whole body is shaking and sweating with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. The person I have been itching to know about lies beyond this door, and I don't know whether to be excited or fucking scared.  
I shut my eyes and knocked on the door, feeling my chest constrict. Now I wait.  
No reply. Not even the shifting of feet.  
Maybe he didn’t hear me? It would be odd if he were asleep; it isn't that late.  
I tapped on the door again, not feeling any less nervous and hoping to God he heard me this time.  
“Hello?” I said.  
Silence again.  
Guess I gotta knock one more-  
“Get out”  
Uh oh. I clearly didn't take Ray's words well. Gerard doesn't really like to be bothered, does he?  
Already feeling discouraged from offering Gerard to join the party upstairs, I backed away from the door.  
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to-”  
“I said get-” The door flung wide open, making me jump back a little. It was at that moment that I first came into contact with his eyes.  
He stood there silently in the doorway, his lightless, sunken hazel eyes blankly staring at me with an expression of both annoyance and confusion. His skin is very pale and bruised, so pale and white it's almost ghostly, contrasting against the darkness of his bedroom. His hair is long and jet-black, very tangled and as unkempt as the place he lives in.  
As we both stood there in awkward silence, I stepped back a little to take a good look at him. He's very frail, like it's been days since he's eaten anything. The pair of black pajamas he’s wearing is clearly too big for him. I swear he's also shaking, clearly uncomfortable and maybe even terrified.  
Seeing the fragile state he's in, I felt my heart sink into my stomach. I didn't expect Gerard to look modest and charming, but...I didn't think he'd look like a complete mess. Okay, that sounds mean. To put it in somewhat better words...there's something clearly wrong with him. In fact, many things.  
All the hostility Gerard may have previously had seemed to have vanished the minute our eyes locked. He stood there, bruised and pale and shaking, completely hesitant yet forlorn.  
“Hi,” I said, trying to break the silence that grew between us. “I...ah…”  
Goddamnit, Frank. Quit looking like a dunce. Ask him already!  
“I just wanted to know if...you wanted to...you know, come upstairs and...join the party?”  
I fucking bombed it, didn't I? He's gonna say no.  
“I...I-I can't,” Gerard stuttered, looking down.  
“Why not?” I asked, surprised he didn't slam the door shut on me. “All your friends are up there. Ray, Bob, Mikey…”  
“I can't,” Gerard repeated, shaking his head. “Too many people,” His eyes stayed focused on the floor, completely soulless.  
“Really? Not even for a little bit? I'm sure your friends would be happy to see-”  
“No,” He shot up his gaze at me, his eyes ice-cold and brimming with anger. “I-I said...no,” he stuttered, the glare instantly gone.  
I swear I can feel my heart beginning to break. He was too scared to go upstairs. I can see it in his vacant eyes. Him living down here for God knows how long has really taken a toll on him. He's a complete alien to the outside world, so much that he dares to not step out of his own world. But he's also lonely. He has to be. Maybe Ray is mistaken. It's not that Gerard is antisocial, like it seems to be. Maybe he wants to be able to interact with the people around him, but is too afraid.  
“Alright,” I said. “That's fine. Don't you wanna maybe come out of your room for a bit and hang out? We can...I dunno, maybe chill out on the couch?”  
Gerard stared blankly at me, as if he had no clue what I just said.  
This isn't going anywhere, is it?  
“Alright, then…,” I huffed, turning away. “If you wanna stay down here, I guess I'll just-”  
“Wait!” Gerard suddenly said, making me jump again. “Don’t leave…”  
I turned around to look at him. Did he just tell me to not leave? He wants me to stay with him?  
“What?” I asked. “You want me to stay down here...with you?”  
Gerard nodded, his eyes full of desperation.  
“P-please?”  
I felt touched. He really is lonely. I was right. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted someone. He wanted me to be with him. He longed for human interaction, but was too afraid to step out of his haven, or his comfort zone…  
“Okay,” I smiled. “I'll stay. Why don't you come out of your room? Let's go sit down somewhere,”  
Gerard scanned his surroundings, hesitant to leave where he's standing. He then looked back up at me, then back to the floor, still shaking with fear.  
“Here,” I extended my hand out to him. “Come on out,”  
He gazed at my hand for a few seconds, unsure what to do with it. Then, after what seemed like a painstakingly long time, he slowly grabbed my hand, his grasp light, shaky, and cold to the touch. With Gerard's hand in mine, we walked down the dark hall and back out to the living room, using the light of my phone as guidance. I felt around for a light switch, soon finding one and turning it on. Now that there's some light in this place so I can see where the hell I'm going, I guided Gerard to the couch. Before I could start to remove some of the trash on it to give both of us a place to sit, I turned to him, motioning to it.  
“You mind?” I asked.  
“No,” Gerard whispered, shaking his head.  
I threw some trash off the couch and sat down, motioning Gerard to join me. He sat down, his gaze locked onto me, his face partially hidden by his dark, messy hair. It’s so messy that I so badly feel the urge to comb it for him. It's a weird habit I have. If someone's hair is a little off, I get the overpowering urge to jump in and fix it for them, no matter what kind of awkward stares I get from others. I used to be so picky about my hair that I would sometimes spend hours in the mirror making it look just right. Of course, that has died off some time ago, or at least now it’s not as bad as it used to be.  
To my odd luck, I found a hairbrush by Gerard’s side and picked it up.  
“Hey,” I said. “Don't wanna come off as weird, but...you mind if I comb your hair for you? It's a little...tangled,”  
I honestly would have expected Gerard to look at me funny, but instead he just smiled.  
“Go ahead,” he said, turning around to let me brush his hair.  
I grabbed some locks of his hair in my hand, combing it in gentle strokes to get the tangles out. Not only was his hair very tangled, but greasy as well. It's obvious that it's been a while since he last washed his hair...hell, his whole body for that matter.  
“So,” I said, trying to start up a conversation. “all these pictures on the walls...you made them all yourself?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard replied. “Why?”  
“Because you're a very good artist,” I said truthfully, because he definitely is one. “You know, you would make a great comic book artist, seeing you're into that kind of thing...you know?” I continued to comb his hair, the tangles coming out with ease. I began to smooth it out, making some finishing touches.  
“You think so? You mean it?” Gerard asked.  
“Of course,” I laughed. “Why would I not?”  
“I dunno...,” Gerard shrugged.  
Silence.  
“Where are you from?” He asked suddenly.  
“Me? New Jersey. Grew up in Belleville. How about you?”  
More silence.  
“You live around here?” Gerard asked, ignoring my question.  
Maybe he didn’t hear me. Oh, well. No big deal.  
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I actually live here, as a matter of fact,”  
“S-seriously?” Gerard’s eyes widened a little as he turned to face me while I combed out a giant clump of black, tangled, and matted hair. “Since when?”  
“Yesterday, actually. It’s kinda a long story…”  
Oh, no...is he gonna ask?  
“Ah...I see,” Gerard turned his head back.  
Oh, thank fucking god. He didn’t ask.  
“Yeah. It’s kinda nice here, staying with Ray, Bob, and Mikey. You know?”  
Hearing no reply from Gerard, I finished up combing his hair, smoothing it out one last time.  
“Alright, I think I'm done…”  
Gerard turned back around, facing me, his eyes locked on to me once again.  
Oh my god…  
I swear I could almost feel my jaw drop. I kept it shut, trying to not look like a dork.  
He looks...really good...no, not just that...he’s-  
“How do I look?” Gerard asked.  
“You look great,” I replied, smiling. Even saying that would be an understatement, though.  
“You sure?”  
“Definitely. I wouldn't lie,”  
“Oh...okay,” Gerard briefly looked down,then back up at me again. “Thank you…” He smiled shyly.  
There's just something about him that really stands out to me. It must be his eyes, which now seem to have more light in them, and are no longer dead, empty, and full of hidden pain. How in the hell can someone...so beautiful hide himself from the world? What made this guy want to hide away from everyone?  
But then again...the world can be a pretty ugly place…  
“Oh, umm…” Gerard stuttered, biting his lip. “What’s your name?”  
“I'm Frank,” I replied. “Frank Iero,”  
“F-frank?”  
“Mhmm,” I nodded.  
“Oh, alright...I’m Gerard,” He held out his hand.  
“Gerard,” I said, shaking his hand. “It's nice to meet you. That's a really cool name, by the way,”  
“Really?” Gerard let go of my hand.  
“Yeah, it's got a nice ring to it. Don't hear a name like that often. It's a hell of a lot better than mine,”  
It’s true. I honestly really hate my name. It's too plain.  
“I don't think so,” Gerard said.  
I guess he's right. There are worse names out there...much worse.  
“Yeah, I suppose,” I nodded. I looked around the room a little, trying my best to think of a topic to keep the conversation going.  
The expression on Gerard's face suddenly changed. It was one that wasn't very pleasant. He went from smiles to a look of distress, like something was wrong.  
“Gerard?” I said. “You alright?”  
He looked down at his feet, muttering something under his breath that I couldn't make out. He shook his head, chattering his teeth as he continued to mumble to himself.  
“S-stop it,” he spat. “No, shut up, shut-”  
“Gerard?” I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to regain his attention.  
Gerard gasped, jumping a little. He looked back at me, eyes wide.  
“Who are you talking to?” I asked.  
“Oh...no one,” Gerard frowned, looking down remorsefully. “I'm sorry…”  
Oh no…  
Maybe this is what Ray was warning me about. I already knew from the minute I went down here that there wasn't something quite right with him. This man clearly isn't all right in the head. Like I said before, there are definitely some things wrong with him. Something really awful must have happened to Gerard, and a part of me doesn't even dare to know what exactly…  
“It's alright,” I said, trying to put what just happened behind the both of us.  
“No, it’s…” Gerard paused, sighing in frustration. “Just pretend it never happened…okay?”  
“Alright,” I nodded reluctantly, knowing deep down that denying what just took place won't make a difference.  
I don't care about the way Gerard is. I don't care that he’s...well, a strange case. He's an interesting strange case. He's artistic, and a genius in disguise.  
And he's just so fucking beautiful…  
“Frank,” Gerard said. “What time is it?”  
I looked at the time on my phone. It's past ten.  
Holy shit...it's later than I thought it was. Did I read time wrong earlier, or did time fly by that fast being around Gerard?  
“It’s past ten,”  
I figured now would be a good time to go to bed. I've got work early tomorrow morning…  
Fuck, where am I gonna sleep? There's a good chance that the party is still going on upstairs, and an even higher chance that someone is already passed out on the futon…  
“Hey, Gerard,” I said. “It's getting pretty late. I think I'm gonna crash and call it a night. I got work early tomorrow morning,”  
“Oh, you do?” Gerard asked. “Where do you work?”  
“Place called the Tragician. Ever heard of it?”  
“No,” Gerard nodded. “What is it?”  
“It's a concert venue. A lot of local bands play there. Gotta get the place ready for a show,”  
“Oh...alright,” Gerard looked down again. He crossed his arms. “Hope work goes well for you,”  
“Thanks, man,” I smiled, but that all changed when I got a good look at Gerard. He sat there slumped on the couch, his head hanging down and arms crossed, like he was really bummed out. The glum expression on his face didn't make it look any better.  
“What's wrong?” I asked, unexpectedly putting my hand on his limp shoulder. “You alright?”  
Gerard looked back up at me, his mouth opening slightly, then closing. He shook his head.  
“I'm fine,” he said flatly.  
I hate hearing those words. He isn't fine. Something's on his mind. When people say those two dreaded words, I know they're lying.  
“No, seriously, what's wrong?” I asked.  
Gerard sighed, rolling his eyes.  
“You really wanna know?” He asked.  
“Yes,”  
“I...I don't want you to leave,”  
My eyes widened. Am I hearing this right?  
“I want you to stay down here...Frankie,” Gerard gasped, covering his mouth. “I-I’m sorry, Frank,”  
“No, that's fine,” I replied. “You can call me Frankie. I don't mind,”  
I honestly always hated being called Frankie. That's what my parents used to call me, as well as some bullies from high school. I even used to yell at Ray for calling me that, sometimes. That or Franklin. But with Gerard, it's fine. He can call me whatever he wants.  
“Can you...stay down here with me?” Gerard asked again. “Please?”  
“Why?” I asked out of genuine curiosity.  
“Because…” Gerard whispered, his eyes gazing at me in desperation. “I’m...lonely,”  
I'm at a loss of words. I was definitely right. All this time he has been cut off from the outside world, fearing what lies beyond the basement door, and all he's longed for is someone to be there with him. He wants someone. Hell, he needs someone. He needs a friend. One that's willing to sneak down beyond forbidden boundaries, just to be there with him.  
Wait…fuck. I can't stay down here. What if Ray and Mikey find out? How am I gonna be able to explain myself? I can't afford to lose their trust. The worst that can happen is that Ray kicks me out if the house for not abiding by his rules (or just his one and only rule, really). I can't let that happen. But then again, where am I gonna sleep? The party is probably gonna go on all night, and some whats-his-name will be passed out on the futon. Besides, being passed out and vulnerable to plenty of others at a house party isn't the best situation to be in, clearly. I shouldn't even have to explain why.  
Maybe I’ll stay down here for a while, then wait for Gerard to fall asleep, then head back upstairs and hope to God I can find a decent place to sleep. That way when Ray and Mikey wake up the next morning, they won't find me here in Gerard's basement.  
“Gerard,” I began. “If you really want me to spend the night down here, I will,”  
“Really?” His eyes widened. “You mean it?”  
“Yes, I do,”  
I don't think I'll ever forget the smile that just spread across his face. He just looks so genuinely happy...and seeing him like that makes me happy, too.  
“Thank you…Frankie,”  
“No problem,” I smiled back.  
“Wait here,” Gerard stood up from the couch, walking to his bedroom and closing the door. A few moments later, I heard him come back out, followed by a slight click sound after shutting the door. He walked back to the sofa with a pile of pillows and sleeping bags. He glanced at me, looking slightly concerned.  
“You don't mind sleeping on the couch...do you?”  
“No, of course not,”  
“Alright. I'm sorry it isn't much, but…,”  
“It's okay, man. Where are you gonna sleep?”  
“The floor,” Gerard set down the pile of sleeping bags and pillows, handing me one of each.  
“Really?” I said. “Don't you like...you know, have your bed?”  
“Yeah, but…I’d rather be out here with you. Plus…,” Gerard sighed. “I don't think you'd want to see my room…”  
“Why not?” I asked.  
“Well...it-it’s…” Gerard stuttered. “It's uh...just messy. Worse than out here,”  
“Oh, alright,” I shrugged. I took the sleeping bag and pillow Gerard handed to me and got myself settled on to his couch under the covers, laying my head on the pillow.  
“Comfy?” Gerard asked, getting under his sleeping bag.  
“Yeah,” I nodded. As I laid there on Gerard’s couch under the sleeping bag, I felt my eyes grow heavy, my body telling me to go the hell to sleep already. I glanced over at Gerard, who reached for what appears to be a sketchbook and fountain pen.  
“Aren't you tired?” I asked.  
“Nah, far from it,” Gerard flipped open the book and immediately began drawing away. “What about you?”  
“Me? I'm fucking ready to pass out,” I huffed. “Got a big day ahead of me,”  
“Alright, Frankie,” Gerard said. “Goodnight. Sleep well,”  
“Thank you,” I smiled. I think I actually like it when he calls me that…

I opened up my eyes, my mind trying to process where I am. Quickly realizing that I'm in Gerard’s basement instead of upstairs in the living room, I checked the time on my phone; it's past seven.  
Oh, fuck…  
I was supposed to go back upstairs while Gerard was asleep. Instead I slept throughout the whole night. Oh, no...Ray and Mikey are gonna kill me…  
Accepting the fact that I'm probably gonna get an earful from Ray, I quickly stood up from the couch, ready to head back upstairs. Before I did, I looked over at Gerard. He's fast asleep on the floor, his body snug under the sleeping bag. Close to his side is his sketchbook, open on a page. I peeked at it, noticing the drawing on it- it’s a picture of me, sleeping in the couch. Gerard sketched a picture of me while I was asleep. I couldn't help but smile, admiring the elaborate detail of the drawing. He actually stayed up and sat there, drawing me in such great detail while I dozed on the couch. He really is a good artist…  
I headed upstairs, dreading what lies in store for me. I exited the basement, walked down the hall and into the kitchen.  
“Holy shit, Frank!” Ray’s voice erupted. He emerged from the living room and marched right up to me, his eyes wide with devastation.  
I've got a shitload of explaining to do…  
“Didn't I tell you to not go down there? How long were you down there?”  
“Ray...I know you're pissed off at me. I can explain…”  
“Oh, please do!” Ray crossed his arms. “Just what in the hell were you-”  
“Look, I went down there because I wanted to try to get Gerard to join the party. You know, encourage him to be a little more social,”  
“There's no way in hell he'd do that,” Ray snorted.  
“Well yeah, he didn't wanna come upstairs, but…he told me he wanted me to stay downstairs with him-”  
“He what?” Ray’s eyes nearly bulged out of sockets. “Are you serious?”  
“What's going on?” Another voice emerged. It was Mikey, walking out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, joining the conflict between me and Ray.  
Oh, great…  
“You really wanna know?” Ray turned to Mikey. “Frank snuck down the basement last night...and stayed there the whole night,”  
”What?” Mikey looked over to me, his brows furrowed. “Are you kidding me, man? He didn't try to...hurt you, did he?”  
“What? No, of course not,” I replied defensively, clearly confused by what the hell Mikey just asked me. “He was nothing like that,”  
“Yeah,” Ray chimed in. “Frank just told me that he was down there with Gerard the whole night!”  
“Wait...what?” said Mikey, looking as if he just saw a herd of cows flying across the sky. “Frank...are you serious?”  
“Serious as a heart attack,” I replied, clearly getting fed up being interrogated by Ray and Mikey. This is getting ridiculous. “You know what, why are you two ganging up on me? What's the big deal, anyways? Gerard didn't even come close to hurting me. He was nothing like that. I went down there to ask him to join the party upstairs. He didn't want to. Instead, he asked me to stay downstairs with him for the night...because he felt lonely,”  
Both Ray and Mikey looked at each other, then back at me, clearly perplexed by what I just said.  
“What?” They both said in unison.  
“He said he was lonely,” I continued. “And he begged me to stay downstairs with him, so I did,”  
Ray and Mikey just stood there in silence, looking dumbfounded.  
“Mikey…” Ray sighed, his voice calm. “Maybe you should...talk to Frank…about your brother,”  
Wait, what?!  
“I gotta get to work. There's a good chance I'll be working overtime, and I really don't want...this to ruin my whole day,” Ray walked past us, removing himself from the conflict. He made his way to the front door, turning back around to look at Mikey, who clearly didn't look pleased, seeing the glum and emotionless look on his face.  
“Fine…,” he sighed. “I will,”  
Gerard and Mikey are brothers? There's no way they can be. They don't even look alike!  
Ray shut the door, leaving me and Mikey alone in the kitchen. I seriously wanna know what the hell this is all about. But on the other hand, I wanna get the hell outta here, not just because I have to get ready for work, but also because I can't stand being fucking interrogated as if I just committed a crime. Another part of me wants to confront Ray and Mikey, and tell them that they're both misunderstood about the lonely man in the basement...at least, based on what I had just witnessed down there.  
“Frank,” Mikey said, turning back to me. “Listen, I really don't wanna have to have this conversation with you, but I will. I will because it's for your own good,”  
“Why?” I replied. “Do you people really think he's that dangerous? He didn't fucking hurt me!”  
“You don't understand!” Mikey revolted. “That man down there is my brother. And sure, maybe he didn't hurt you, but...that's only one time you've met him. You really don't know what you're getting yourself into,”  
“Well, then fucking enlighten me, Mikey!” I yelled. “Why the hell do you and Ray want me to not be around Gerard? What makes this guy so dangerous, according to you two?”  
“Frank, he's sick,” Mikey replied, clearly becoming as fed up as I am. “You should be able to see that. You saw him, you know how he is!”  
“I know that, Mikey,” I replied, playing back back the memories of me and Gerard from last night. “I know he isn't all that well in the head, but...that doesn't mean you guys should just let him rot down there. What makes you think he'll get any better of you guys leave him like that?”  
“Look, Frank….I understand where you're coming from. I really do,” Mikey said, calming down a little. “We tried helping him. We all did. But nothing worked. We have no other choice but to keep him here…,”  
Mikey looked down, his eyes vacant and full of sorrow. He crossed his arms, looking back up at me, his face still holding the same sullen expression.  
“I honestly appreciate you trying to help him, Frank. I know you want to do all you can for him...but the reason why we don't want you down there is because…we don't want you to get hurt. We’re not trying to be assholes, we’re just looking out for you,”  
“I know, but…,” I huffed, feeling myself shake with frustration. “I'm just saying that maybe now he's asking for help, but doesn't quite know how to, because he's afraid. He's really fucking scared, Mikey. I may not know him like you do, but...just give him another chance? Please?”  
“I've given him too many chances, Frank. Maybe he didn't hurt you or anything, but...just…,” Mikey shook his head in defeat. “You know what? Just don't go back down there again, okay?” he begged. “I don't even wanna sit here and have to do this to you. Just leave him be, okay?”  
I don't wanna have this conversation either. It's making me sick, sitting here listening to Mikey tell me lies. I wanna just storm out of here and just scream. I need to get out of here, and fast.  
“Fine,” I spat. “I will,” I turned away from Mikey, getting myself ready for work, like I should have done a long time ago.  
I know what I'm doing when I come back from work. I'm gonna see Gerard again, whether Ray and Mikey like it or not. I gotta do it off their radar, though. I am not willing to go through what just happened. They may not realize it, but Gerard doesn't need to be left alone.  
He needs a friend.  
He needs help.  
He needs to be fixed.


	5. Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back

My first day working at the Tragician mainly consisted of me, Monique and a few others getting the place ready for a show for some local punk-rock band. After my eight hour shift was over, Monique offered me to stick around for the show, which I politely declined. I need to see Gerard again. I know he’s down there in that dark basement, waiting for me to come home. All day at work, I could not stop thinking about him. Memories of him from last night kept on playing in my head, from the time we first made eye contact all the way up to the moment I saw his sketching of a sleeping me before leaving for work. I can only hope that Ray or Mikey are not around. I cannot afford to get caught sneaking down the basement. Not again.  
I decided to walk home rather than take a taxi, not only to save money but to make time drag on a little longer, since it was only six when I got out of work, and it’s obviously too early for Ray and Mikey to be asleep. Ray did mention he’s working overtime today, so I can only hope he’s either still not home from work, or he’s home now and is planning on going to bed soon. When I got home, I found that Ray is indeed still not home, and both Mikey and Bob are in their rooms doing...whatever, I guess. I figured maybe it’s a good idea to make some coffee to try to stay up as late as I can. Luckily, I have tomorrow off, so if I stay up super late and wait for Mikey to fall asleep, I can spend some time with Gerard.  
I went over to the coffee machine in the kitchen and prepared myself some, being sure to add extra sugar, as well as some french vanilla creamer; I’ve never been one to have my coffee black, because I just cannot stand the bitter taste of it. I need the extra stuff not just because it tastes better to me, but the extra sugar will help keep me awake.  
While I waited for Mikey to pass out, I sat in the living room sipping on my coffee while watching some shitty vampire horror movie on tv. All throughout evening, I kept on looking at the time on the digital wall clock as I grew more and more impatient. Right now it’s only quarter to nine. In other words, it’s probably still too fucking early for Mikey to be asleep. When the movie cut to a commercial break, I got up and made my way to the bathroom, briefly peeking into Mikey’s room as I passed it; he’s sitting on the end of his bed, playing his bass. After taking a quick piss, I got out of the bathroom, where I was almost immediately greeted by Mikey, who’s now sporting a band t-shirt and...unicorn pajama pants? Yeah. Fucking unicorns. Not Spiderman, or Batman, or even Aquaman, as expected from someone like Mikey. No. He is seriously wearing pajamas with pink and white unicorns on it.  
“Please, don’t ask,” Mikey said bluntly, clearly seeing me questioning his choice of sleepwear. “By the way, I got some news,”  
“What’s that?” I asked.  
“I just got a call from Ray. He’s gonna be outta town for a few days,”  
“Why?”  
“Family emergency. His mom got in a bad car accident. He’s gonna be seeing her in the hospital,”  
“Oh, damn. I should call him,”  
“That would be a good idea, man. He’s pretty torn up about it,”  
“I don’t blame him,”  
“So…,” Mikey paused. “Yeah, that’s what’s going on,”  
“Alright,” I said, starting to make my way back to the living room.  
“Oh, wait!” Mikey said suddenly. “By the way…,”  
“What?” I asked, turning back. Uh oh…  
“I’m gonna be going to bed pretty soon...so please...do me a favor,”  
Fuck me sideways. I know what he’s gonna ask me to do...or rather, not do.  
“...don’t go downstairs again. I’m serious,”  
Fucking called it.  
“Alright,” I said, nodding. “I won’t,” I made my way down the hall and back to the living room, feeling Mikey’s glance still on me. All I gotta do is wait. I must admit, I do genuinely feel bad about Ray and what happened to his mom. I will make a note to myself to call him sometime tomorrow morning. Since Ray won't be around for the next few days, that means I have one less person to worry about finding me sneaking me down to see Mikey’s brother...

It wasn’t until another two cups of coffee later when I was almost completely sure that Mikey finally fell asleep. I took another quick peek in his room, finding him asleep, snoring softly. I tiptoed down the hall to the basement door, taking a deep breath before entering the void that is Gerard’s haven.  
I shut the door behind me, this time not greeted by pure darkness, surprisingly. The living room light is on. I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, finding Gerard sitting on the couch, drawing away in his sketchbook. He looked up at me, smiling shyly.  
“Hey, Frankie,” he said.  
I would have expected myself to smile back seeing him, except I didn’t. Something’s wrong. It’s the bruises on his face. There are new ones on him, clear as day, both sticking out like a sore thumb. One of them, a deep purplish-red, is right above his left temple. Another one, darker than the other new bruise, lays just under his right eye.  
“Hey, Gerard,” I replied, trying to hide my concern, which Gerard clearly wasn’t falling for.  
“What’s wrong?” He asked.  
“The bruises on your face,” I pointed out, instantly giving up on masking my concerns. “What happened?”  
“Oh…” Gerard looked down. “I fell…”  
“Oh...I’m sorry,” I replied, knowing in the back of my mind that Gerard is lying. I shouldn’t bother asking how he got the bruises. There’s something he clearly doesn’t want to tell me…  
I sat down next to Gerard on the couch, looking down at what he’s drawing in his sketchbook. It appears to be some superhero. Or supervillain? Who knows.  
“I was gonna make us some coffee when we got up. But when I woke up...you were gone,” Gerard said, disappointment radiating from his hazel eyes. “I really wanted to say good morning to you…”  
“I’m sorry, man. I had to get up early for work,” I replied, now feeling kinda guilty for not saying goodbye to Gerard before leaving for work. I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little seeing the look of genuine sadness behind his eyes.  
“I know. It’s fine though. How was work?” Gerard asked, changing the subject.  
“It was alright. I had to help out get a show ready for the night, it was for a local punk rock band,”  
“Oh...that’s cool,” Gerard replied, his eyes glued to his sketchbook. “You like working there?”  
“Yeah, totally,” I said. “Hell of a lot better that any of my other jobs,”  
“That's good,” Gerard smiled a little, making some finishing touches on his drawing.  
“You know, we should go there some time for a show. That would be fun,” I smiled back.  
Gerard said nothing. It's clear he doesn't like talking about anything that involves him having to leave his basement.  
“So…,” I said, laughing uneasily as we stood there in awkward silence. “What have you been up to, Gerard?”  
“Nothing really,” Gerard shrugged his shoulders. “That is, unless you count sleeping and drawing as something,”  
“Sure, it does. What else do you like to do besides drawing?” I asked.  
Gerard gazed up from his picture, looking as if he's very deep in thought.  
“Well…” he started. “I like to watch horror movies,”  
“Really? Me too!” I replied, not being surprised that someone like Gerard would be into that kind of thing, seeing his many drawings of horror icons like Dracula and Frankenstein scattered around the walls. “I actually watched this one horror movie earlier. It was about vampires. It wasn’t that good, though,”  
“Oh, really? What was it called?”  
“Come to think of it…,” I said, trying my hardest to remember the name of the mediocre vampire film with bad effects, as well as even worse acting and a horribly written script. “I can’t even remember what it was called,”  
“Oh, that’s too bad. If you knew the name of it, I’ve probably seen it. I’ve seen so many horror movies, like you don’t even know. Especially vampire movies. Bram Stoker’s Dracula is one of my favorites,”  
“Oh, yeah. That’s a good one!”  
“Definitely,” Gerard smiled. It’s the same smile from last night. It’s the smile that just gives me butterflies in my stomach. There’s something about the way he smiles that makes me melt, even though that honestly sounds kinda sappy.  
Okay, it sounds really sappy. But whatever. There’s no better way I can put it in words.  
“You know…” Gerard said. “Speaking of horror movies, we should totally have a horror movie marathon night. I have a huge collection of movies on dvd, and obviously...most of them are horror movies,”  
“Yeah, totally. That would be awesome,” I said, unable to look away from the genuinely irresistible smile on Gerard’s face, as well as his radiant hazel eyes.  
I don’t care how we spend the night down here. All that matters is that I’m with him. He needs to be with somebody; somebody to talk to, somebody to be friends with, somebody to not make him feel all alone, and that somebody is undoubtedly me. We could spend the whole night just sitting on the couch talking about horror movies, and I would still be happy. All that matters is that I’m with Gerard. Nothing else.  
But still...where did those bruises on his face come from? I’ve gotten myself hurt too many times to know that you simply can’t get bruises like that simply from falling. It looks as if he got those bruises from a fight, like he got punched in the face. But if that’s true, then with who? As far as I know, Gerard is the only person that lives down here, and I’m very likely to be the first person he’s talked to in a very long time…  
“Frankie?” Gerard said suddenly, the smile gone. “What’s wrong?”  
“What?” I shot my head up, realizing that I’ve been spacing off. God, having ADD can really suck…  
“You just...don’t look well. Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, I’m alright,” I replied, clearly lying. I’m not alright. I want to know where those bruises came from…  
“You don’t look like it,” Gerard said flatly. “Come on, tell me. What’s on your mind?”  
I really shouldn’t bring up the bruises again. I don’t wanna make Gerard feel like I’m prying. I’m not gonna bother asking. I don’t wanna upset him. He already gave me an answer, so I’m only gonna pretend he told me the truth, even though he really didn’t. It’s clear he doesn’t ever wanna talk about it. The best I can do is hope that the real way he got them aren’t as ugly and dark as the bruises themselves...  
Now that I think about it, there’s definitely a lot on my mind. Gerard knows I live in this house with him and his brother Mikey, as well as Ray and Bob. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s gonna wanna know how this all came to be, me living with these guys and all. Everyone else besides Gerard know what happened to me, yet ironically I feel such a close connection to him, like we’re already good friends. I know we’ve only known each other for only two nights so far, yet I feel like as Gerard becomes more social, the more I wanna tell him. He’s already come a long way from where he was when we first met last night, even though he still has a long way to go, in terms of breaking out of his social barrier.  
Maybe now I should tell him everything; about how I came to live with him and the other guys. If I do...maybe then Gerard will open up to me more about himself. Maybe then he’ll tell me why he’s so afraid to leave his basement, and why Ray and Mikey have such a big problem with me seeing him. If Ray and Mikey won’t tell me anything, maybe Gerard will…  
“You know what, Gerard?” I started, immediately feeling myself shake a little. “Maybe I should tell you something…”  
“What’s that?” He asked.  
“I should open up to you a little about why I moved in with you, Ray, Bob, and Mikey. It isn’t gonna be easy, though…” I sighed, trying to keep my cool, but already starting to falter, seeing that I’m shaking and my chest is starting to feel tight.  
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Frankie. I understand,” Gerard said, setting down his sketchbook. He focused his eyes on me, giving me a look of genuine concern. “I don’t wanna pry,”  
“No, Gerard,” I shook my head. “I have to tell you. It’s the best way that...I can cope with what’s happened to me. If I never tell you...I’ll never get better,”  
“I know what you’re saying. But I hate seeing you like this. I don’t want you to be upset. Now I feel kinda bad for asking…” Gerard frowned, looking down in guilt.  
“No, you shouldn’t feel bad about anything. I want to get better. I want to stop feeling this way about my past. I want to get over it already!”  
I clenched my fists tightly, frustrated with my inner demons of being too scared to tell the truth. I haven’t even started and I’m already shaking and sweating and freaking out. Fucking hell…  
“Frankie…,” Gerard looked up, suddenly putting his cold hand on my shoulder. “If you really want to tell me, that’s fine. You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you,”  
“I’m not worried about you judging me, Gerard. I’m just scared to tell you because it just hurts having to look back…,”  
Feeling defeated by my own thoughts, I hung my head down in defeat, still shaking. My eyes started to feel warm and moist, blurring my vision. Oh my god...am I crying?  
No. I can’t cry. Why the hell am I crying? I didn’t do that in front of Ray. God fucking damn it...I am such an idiot. I look so stupid crying in front of Gerard. I haven’t said a single fucking word to him about my past and I’m already in tears. I can’t even remember the last time I cried!  
Stop it, Frank. Stop fucking crying. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t-  
“Frankie!”  
Before I knew it, Gerard suddenly leaned forward and wrapped me in his arms, hugging me. He held on to me tightly, his body shaking. My face is buried in his shoulder, my tears being smeared on his black hoodie that smells of cigarettes. The minute he began to hold me, I suddenly stopped. I’m not scared. I’m not shaking anymore. It’s like the storm of emotions that was erupting in my head earlier suddenly stopped.  
He is so warm. He smells bad, but I don’t care. I want to stay with him, wrapped in his arms. I want him to be here with me. I don’t ever want him to ever let go of me…  
“Listen to me, Frankie,” Gerard said shakily, looking at me right in the eyes. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t think I’d make you feel...like this,” He looked down remorsefully, still holding me in his frail arms.  
“No, I want to tell you,” I replied, drying my tears. “I need to talk to someone. I need to talk to you. I want to open up to you. I want you to be the person that helps me get over this!”  
“But why?” Gerard asked. “I don’t want to see you so sad, feeling so much hurt,”  
“I’m not hurt. I’m healing. It’s a long and hard process, but in the end, it’ll all be better. I want to open up to you because I want to stop feeling this way. I want to start getting better. I want to not be afraid anymore. I want to open up to you because...I trust you,”  
“Frankie…” Gerard’s eyes grew wide, his grasp on me becoming tighter. “Are you sure you wanna do this? Do you...really...trust me?”  
“Yes!” I exclaimed, feeling more tears swell up in my eyes. “I want these feelings to go away! I need help. I want you to help me stop being scared...please,”  
“Alright,” Gerard sighed, bringing up his hand to my face and wiping my eyes clean of the tears. “If that’s what you want to do...then I won’t stop you,”  
I smiled, feeling an imaginary weight of my fears slowly being lifted off my shoulders. I really wanna do this. I wanna do this in front of Gerard. I want to be able to escape from my inner demons...and I have a feeling that Gerard is the one that can chase them away.  
“After all, Frankie...you helped me last night. You were there when nobody else was...so it’s only fair that I return the favor,”  
“Yeah, that’s true,” I said. We let go of each other, still making eye contact.  
Come to think of it, I could stare at Gerard all day and be completely fine. I just still wish those bruises weren’t on his beautiful face…  
“So, anyway…” I began, taking a deep breath. “The reason why I moved here was because Ray offered me to stay with him and the others. We met up at a bar downtown. I was homeless at the time…”  
“How did that happen?” Gerard asked.  
“What? Me being homeless?”  
“Yeah…,” he nodded. “If you’re okay with talking about that, anyway…”  
“Yeah, I’ll get to that,” I replied, dreading the moment I’ll actually have to go into detail about that. “I knew Ray from high school, as well as Bob. We were both good friends, so it was kinda nice running into him again. I didn’t know Bob and Mikey all that well, though,”  
“You know...M-Mikey...is...my little brother, right?” Gerard asked, stumbling over Mikey’s name.  
“Yeah, I do. I actually never knew that until Ray told me recently,”  
Gerard didn’t say anything.  
“So, anyway,” I continued. “When I ran into Ray at the bar, he asked what was up with me, and...well, I kinda had to tell him what happened…”  
Gerard remained silent, his full attention still focused on me.  
“So, the reason why I was homeless was because...I’m gay, and my parents found out about it, and they didn’t take the news too well,”  
“How did they find out?” Gerard asked.  
“Well...to make a long story short, I was very secretive about being gay, since my parents were against that whole thing. I ended up telling someone that I thought was my friend...and he stabbed me right in the back...he fucking told them…”  
The image of Derek Groell came to my mind. I’ll never forget what he fucking did to me. I’ll never forget that smug, shit-eating grin he always had on his stupid face. I thought this motherfucker was a friend. I was dead wrong. He ended up being a fucking backstabber, just as bad as the fuckheads that bullied me and Ray in high school. I don’t know why I came out to him, but for whatever dumb reason it may have been, I really should have thought twice before opening up my fucking mouth to him. Just thinking about him now brings my blood to a boil, even months after that dreaded day…  
“Frankie...calm down,” Gerard put a hand on my knee. I snapped back to reality, realizing that my mind had drifted off again. My fists are clenched so tight. My jaw hurts from gritting my teeth. I let my inner rage take over without even realizing it.  
“Oh...I’m sorry,” I looked down, trying to keep my cool.  
“No, Frankie. You have a right to be mad...I just don’t want you to...you know, freak out,”  
“No, I won’t. I’m okay,”  
I took another deep breath, hoping to god I don’t let myself loose like that again. I’ve always had a short temper, and I really don’t wanna let that get the best of me. Not here. Not in front of Gerard. Never.  
“Anyway...Derek told my parents. I should have known it was a mistake to tell him, because...I’ve tried hiding me being gay for a long time, and I never really told anyone about it. I only told him and Ray, as far as I know,”  
“When did you find out you were...you know, the way you are?” Gerard asked.  
“I had to be like maybe fourteen or fifteen. I know it was not long after I started high school. I just...never really found any girls attractive. I remember some guys always talking about how hot some girls at school were, you know? How much they wanna get in their pants and all, and I was just like...no, not really,”  
It honestly feels very awkward looking back at a younger me (but then again, who doesn’t feel like that?). I can just envision fourteen-year old me clearly in my head-a short, scrawny kid with neatly kept brown hair, and almost no sociability or friends whatsoever. He always focused on how he looked, from the way his hair was combed to the clothes he was wearing. He spent his spare time collecting records and playing guitar rather than jerking off to naked girls on the internet, like many other teenage boys fresh into puberty. He never found any girls attractive, not even the ones you see on magazine covers or on television, their starved bodies glamorized and dollied up. That kid was a younger, teenage version of me.  
“I knew I was gay because I would see some guys, and think ‘oh my god...he’s just so beautiful’. Not just good-looking, but someone I’d want to talk to. Someone I’d want to hang out with. Someone that I can see myself asking out on a date, maybe. You know? What a guy thinks when he sees an attractive girl...at least, in some cases,”  
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Gerard said, laughing a little.. “I know how it works. I may not have a major in adolescent psychology but...I know what you’re saying, Frankie,”  
“Alright,” I laughed along with Gerard, stopping myself from going into great detail how the hormonal teenage human mind works.  
“So yeah, that’s when I knew that...well, that I pretty much like men, and not women. That’s when I also realized that I had to hide that from my parents,”  
“Why didn’t they accept people being like that?”  
“It’s part their religion. I was raised Catholic, so...I’m assuming you know what their views are on gays is like, right?”  
“Ugh, of course,” Gerard rolled his eyes. “How bad were they with it? The whole religious thing?”  
“I must admit...pretty fucking bad,” I said, cringing at the thought of growing up in a strict, conservative Catholic household. “Borderline strict. Had to dress like a good little Christian boy, had to go to church every Sunday morning, had to read the Bible, had to say my prayers at the table and before bed...you know, that kind of shit,”  
“Oh, yeah. Trust me, I know,”  
“Wait, your parents were like that with you?” I asked.  
Gerard froze, his eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets. He turned away, shaking his head and waving a hand.  
“N-no,” he said. “They weren’t,”  
“You alright?” I felt my heart skip a beat. “I’m sorry if-”  
“No, it’s fine,” Gerard turned back to me, the mortified look still clear on his face. “Let’s j-just...not...t-talk about that right now...o-okay?”  
“Alright,”  
This was a big mistake. I’m the one that’s supposed to do all the talking, and I’ve already made Gerard feel uncomfortable in the process...this isn’t going good at all. I really shouldn’t have done this...  
Gerard shut his eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath and then opening the back up, looking back at me, trying his best to smile, despite it coming off as forced and full of inner discontent.  
“Anyway...you were saying?”  
“Right…” I said reluctantly. “So, because of how my parents were...I couldn't let them know about me being gay. I mean, that’s not the only thing I had to hide from them. I had to hide my collection of rock n’ roll records, my horror movie tapes, hell-I had to hide my own fucking guitar from them, which I got at a garage sale, for fuck’s sake! They thought if I became a musician, like in a rock band, that I’d end up worshipping Satan or some shit like that,”  
“Really?” Gerard cringed. “That’s just ridiculous,”  
“Psh, no kidding,” I shrugged. “My mom and dad wanted me to grow up to be a pastor, or just anything church-related, when I really just wanted to be in a band, play guitar and stuff. Not a Christian band, though. Like, punk-rock or something along those lines, like The Misfits, Black Flag, Green Day, you know?”  
“Yeah, definitely. Your parents should support you trying to go for something like that,”  
“Well, clearly they didn’t. They didn’t support anything I wanted to do, only what they wanted for me,”  
“And that’s just really shitty,” Gerard sighed, nodding in disapproval. “They shouldn’t fucking control you like that. You’re not a puppet. You’re a human being. You’re their son, for fuck’s sake!”  
“I know…,” I felt the tears come back. I didn’t even attempt to hold it back this time. There’s just no use. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them, as crazy at is sounds, knowing how they are, but...they’re my parents. They raised me. They took care of me. Yeah, they were hella strict, but they looked out for me. I had it better than others. It’s not like they beat me or anything like that. They wanted me to lead a good life. It’s just that...they were just too paranoid, you know? Too afraid that I’ll go against what they wanted for me, and if I did...I’d end up on a bad path, or whatever. Like a drug addict, or in prison, or dead,”  
“I understand,” Gerard leaned over and handed me a box of tissues. “But you didn’t end up any of those things, did you?”  
“Well, no,” I took the box, my hand trembling. “But when they found out about me being gay...they told me to get out...and to never come back, or they’d call the police...and I just...”  
Before I knew it, I was sobbing. I put my hands in my face, muffling my cries, the box of tissues long forgotten. It just came over me, without any warning. I don’t think I cried this hard in a long, long time. I don’t even care how ridiculous I must look right now. I knew this would be coming sooner or later. I knew all of this wouldn’t be easy.  
I looked back up at Gerard, who was absolutely speechless. He stood there, his eyes brimming with utter shock and dismay, his mouth open.  
“They wouldn’t even let me pack anything. They just threw me out of the house, only with the clothes on my back,”  
“Frankie…” Gerard said under his breath, still mortified.  
“And I was left to live out on the streets. No fucking place to go…”  
“Frankie...how long was it like that?”  
“Honestly…” I sniffled, rubbing my tearful eyes. “I’ve lost track of time...it had to be months...several months,”  
Gerard didn’t say anything. He just shook his head in disapproval, his face still holding the same forlorn look.  
“Frankie…”  
I jumped as I suddenly felt arms being wrapped around me, holding me in a familiar tight, shaking embrace.  
“Frankie!” Gerard cried.  
That was when I let it all out. I sobbed and wailed so fucking hard with my face buried in Gerard’s shoulder, I could hardly breathe. I wrapped my arms around Gerard, not ever letting go. I was letting it all out. I had to, and it felt so fucking good doing so. But I also feel fucking terrible. All this time I’ve tried avoiding the memories of my past, locking them up in the darkest depths of my mind, and this is what it’s done to me…  
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry if I made you upset. I’m sorry if I-”  
“No!” Gerard exclaimed. “Don’t be sorry. Don’t worry about me. You have nothing to be sorry for,”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I’m damn sure!” Gerard held me up, his shaking hands on my shoulders. “How can you be sorry if you didn’t do anything wrong, Frankie? You’re letting it all out. You’re letting go,”  
“I know…” I stopped and tried to breathe, regaining control. “I know I’m letting it all out. That’s what I wanna do. I wanna let go of what’s happened. I don’t wanna be afraid of it anymore!”  
“Well…” Gerard wiped the tears from my eyes, smiling. “How do you feel now?”  
“I…,” I paused. How do I feel now, actually? I know that the past is the past. It can’t be changed. There’s nothing I can obviously do about that. But can I move on? Can I look at my past without any fear? Can I face those demons and tell them I’m not scared anymore?  
Yes. Yes, I fucking can. I spilled out everything. I cried. I sobbed. I felt the pain. It hurt like hell, but not anymore. I’m not scared anymore...and it was all because I let it all out, in front of Gerard. I have nothing to be afraid of anymore.  
“Gerard…” I said. “I feel better...so much better,”  
“Really?” Gerard asked. “You swear?”  
“I swear on my grave,” I smiled. “I mean it,”  
“Good,” Gerard smiled back, hugging me once again. He is still so warm. I breathed in the scent of cigarettes on him, still smiling. I never, ever want to let him go. I don’t want him to let go of me, either.  
“Well…,” I said, looking up at Gerard. “I guess now you know why I’m here,”  
“Pretty much,” he nodded, smiling down at me. “And I’m glad you’re here, Frankie. I’m glad you came down here last night. I’m glad that...I had someone that wanted to talk to me, when no one else would,”  
I swear at that moment I caught myself blush a little. I could barely stop myself from smiling, hearing Gerard say those words, seeing his beautiful face, seeing the light behind his eyes…  
“Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard whispered.  
“You’re welcome, Gerard,” I said. “And...thank you. Thank you for letting me vent.Thank you...for listening. I really appreciate it,”  
“No problem...Frankie,” Gerard put a hand on my head, lightly ruffling my styled black hair. I just smiled. If it were anyone else that did it, I would have gotten mad. I hate it when people touch my hair, let alone mess it up. But not here with Gerard. I don’t care if my hair is ruined. In fact, think I actually like being patted on the head by him…  
“You really like calling me Frankie, don’t you?” I laughed.  
“Yeah, so you better get used to it!” Gerard sneered. “Fraaaaankiiieee,”  
“Oh, come on!” I playfully slapped him, still giggling. “Maybe I should call you something too,”  
“Like what?”  
“Oh, gee, I dunno…” I said.  
Wait a minute. I know.  
“That’s it! I’ll call you Gee!”  
I swear, the look on Gerard was priceless. He’s gonna really hate his new nickname, isn’t he?  
“You can’t be serious,”  
“Oh, I’m dead serious...Gee!”  
“Oh, no. Not gonna happen!” Gerard turned away, crossing his arms.  
“Oh, come on! It sounds so cute!” I cooed. “It’s so fitting, too!”  
“It sounds dumb!”  
“No it doesn’t. Come on, man. Stop being such a killjoy...Gee!”  
Gerard shook his head, facepalming.  
“Ugh...how did I not know you were gonna be so stubborn? Are you like this with the guys?”  
“Who?” I asked.  
“You know…” Gerard said. “The guys upstairs. Ray, Bob...my little brother, Mikey,”  
“Oh, I dunno. It depends, I guess,”  
Maybe now is a good time to ask Gerard how he knows Ray and Bob. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask how he came around to moving here. I already told him everything about me (at least, what lead up to me moving in). Maybe...it’s okay to ask him why he stays down here all the time, and get his side of the story. Now that he knows more about me, he’s a little more warmed up to me, isn’t he?  
“You know, speaking of them,” I said. “How do you know Ray and Bob? What made you come move in here? Where did you…”  
I shut my mouth after I saw how Gerard reacted the minute I started asking him. He sat there with his head hung down, his eyes vacant and wide, his mouth slightly agape. What little color his skin may have previously had instantly vanished.  
Oh, no...what have I done? Goddamn it, Frank…you dumbass...  
“Gerard?” I said, reaching a hand out to him. “You alri-”  
“No!” Gerard snapped, slapping my hand away. He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking uncontrollably as he began to rock himself back and forth.  
Oh, fuck...oh, fuck...I’ve really done it...I really fucked up…  
“Gerard, I’m sorry, “ I said weakly, foolishly reaching out to him again. “I didn’t mean to-”  
“No!” Gerard screamed, looking back up at me with utter fear in his eyes as he shoved me away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me! Don’t you fucking dare!”  
I sat there, feeling myself shrink in the couch, wanting to disappear. I can’t believe I let myself do this to him...I pushed him too far...I feel so fucking awful right now, and I’m terrified, seeing him lose himself.  
Gerard clamped his hands to his head, grabbing and tugging at his messy hair. He huffed frantically as he continued to rock back and forth violently.  
“No...please...stop it!” He yelled. “Don’t hurt them...don’t...no, daddy, mama, please, no! Daddy! Mama!”  
Gerard curled up in the corner of the couch, letting go of his hair and started hitting himself on the head, as if trying to fight with whatever nightmare was going on in his head.  
“Mama!” He cried. “Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!”  
Oh my god...now I know where the bruises came from…  
“Gerard, stop it!” I sprang up from the couch and reached for Gerard’s arms, trying to stop him from beating himself to death. “Stop hurting yourself, Gerard!”  
“Go away!” He screamed, swinging a fist right at me. “Get the fuck away from me!”  
Gerard’s fist hit me right in the chest, making me fall back on the floor. I coughed and gagged, feeling the air rush out of my lungs. The impact of the blow left my chest pulsating in pain, making me weak and groggy. I backed away from Gerard, who now stood over me with a baseball bat clutched in his hand, with twisted fear and rage beaming in his eyes.  
Oh no...he’s gonna kill me...I’m gonna fucking die here...  
“Please…” I coughed, cowering away from him. “Please...don’t kill me,”  
“Get out!” Gerard hollered, swinging the bat at me. “Get the fuck away from me!”   
I sprang up and dodged his attack, the bat slamming on the hard ground instead of my head. I ran like hell and jolted up the stairs, escaping from the psychotic Gerard. I opened up the door and slammed it shut behind me, gasping for air as my whole body trembled. I ran to the bathroom and locked it shut, still trying to catch my breath. I sank down and sat on the tile floor, burying my face in my sweat-drenched hands. I feel like complete garbage. I feel sick to my stomach. I feel like I’m gonna throw up…  
I gagged, feeling bile build up inside of me. I rushed to the toilet, puking up my weak dinner of potato chips and coffee. I coughed and gagged and retched, the vile taste of vomit burning my dry mouth and throat. I flushed the toilet, turning on the sink and splashing my face with ice cold water. I looked up at the vanity mirror, cussing at my own ugly reflection.  
“Frank, you fucking son of a bitch!” I said under my breath. “You motherfucking dumb piece of shit! What the hell were you thinking?!”  
I slammed my fist on the counter, desperately holding back every single urge within me from punching the mirror and shattering it to pieces. I screamed, falling back on the floor and wrapping myself in fetal position, begging to vanish from this fucking place. I screamed and cried and cursed so much I thought I was going crazy, like the murderous madman downstairs.  
I don’t believe it. None of this is happening. This can’t be fucking real. I was almost murdered. My whole head would have been a mush of blood and skull fragments and guts and brain matter, had I not reacted in time. Gerard almost fucking killed me in cold blood. The same man I spilled my whole heart and soul out to almost ended my own life…  
Holy shit. This is what Ray and Mikey warned me about. This is why they didn’t want me to go downstairs. They were right. I may as well have been signing my death certificate going down there...they were right all along. I’m such an idiot for thinking I can tame the beast in that godforsaken basement...I was so wrong. In fact, dead wrong…  
“Frank?” A voice called out, followed by a light knock on the door. “You alright?”  
It’s Mikey.  
“Frank?” Mikey called, tapping on the door again. “I know you’re in there. You okay?”  
“Yes…” I replied, lying to myself and to Mikey. “I’m...okay,”  
I’m not okay. I’m not o-fucking-kay. I was almost brutally murdered by your mentally disturbed brother downstairs! Of course I’m not okay!  
“You wanna come out?” Mikey asked. “You’re not hurt, are you?”  
“No...I’m not hurt,” lying again, gritting my teeth. My chest still hurts so bad from when Gerard hit me. I know it’s gonna hurt for a long, long time…  
“You wanna come out?” He asked again.  
No. No I don’t. I wanna fucking disappear right now. I don’t wanna sit there as you tell me the painfully obvious, how right you were along. It’s not gonna fucking happen, Mikey. Never.  
“No,” I hissed. “Leave me alone,”  
“Please, Frank?” Mikey begged. “I’m really worried about you…”  
“Oh, really?” I sneered. “Why?”  
“Because...my brother tried to hurt you…”  
“Well, no shit, Sherlock!” I yelled, so badly wanting Mikey to just go the fuck away. “In fact, he tried killing me! You know what this all means? You were right all along, Mikey! Are you fucking happy, now?”  
“No, I’m not!” Mikey refuted. “Just please come on out. I’m not gonna be an ass to you, okay? I just wanna make sure you’re alright,”  
I said nothing. I just sat there and buried my face in my hands, hoping I can cry myself to sleep in this bathroom…  
Why did I think it was a good idea to go down there? I regret not listening to Ray and Mikey. Here I am, thinking I can prove them wrong, thinking that Gerard can be helped...and the end result was me almost being killed by him, all because I asked him the wrong questions at the wrong time…  
“Come on, Frank. Please come out. Let’s talk, okay? I just wanna make sure you’re alright...please?”  
It’s no use. I have to come out. I can’t stay in here forever, as much as I wish I could. I have to talk to Mikey. I have to tell him everything that happened. I have to tell him about his brother...and ask him questions about him, too. In fact, lots of questions...


	6. Brother

I reluctantly walked out of the bathroom and followed Mikey to the living room, where we both sat down on one of the sofas across from the coffee table. My whole body seemed to have sank into the cushions of the couch, not daring to shift. Right now I am calmer and more collected than I was just a few minutes ago in the bathroom, where I just about puked my insides out. Despite that, I still feel weary and devastated after what just happened downstairs between me and Gerard. Every single second of it is wired into my memory, painstakingly playing over again inside my head. I've seen my fair share of horror films, but I swear to Christ on his throne-being chased by a complete psychopath with a baseball bat is a hell of a lot different in real life than it is in the movies, and of course, a lot more terrifying.  
“You want some water?” Mikey asked, glancing over at me. “You definitely don't look so good,”  
Well, no shit. I almost got murdered. I'm not gonna be looking so fantastic, now am I?  
“Sure,” I replied.  
None of this makes sense. Now that I know exactly what kind of person lives down there, why would the others just let him make it at home there? He doesn't belong here, he belongs in a goddamn loony bin.  
Okay...no. I take that back. That's just awful. I've been in a place like that before...and it made being homeless look like living in the Taj Mahal, and that's saying a lot. With that being said, where does Gerard belong? Not here, that's for sure…  
“Here,” Mikey handed me a glass of ice water. I grabbed it out of his hand and took a huge gulp of it, feeling the water wash over my dry and sore throat.  
“Thank you,” I said. “Really needed that,”  
“No problem,” Mikey sat down across from me on another couch, glancing at me as I laid sprawled out on the one in front of him, staring up at the ceiling.  
“So, uh...Frank,” Mikey said, clearing his throat. “I think I should begin by asking this…what was Gerard like the first night you met him?”  
A hell of a lot different than the way he was just recently, of course. Almost like a completely different person.  
“Well…” I glanced over at Mikey, yet again playing the memories of me and Gerard in my head. “I told you that he wanted me to stay down with him for the night, because he felt lonely, right?”  
“Yeah, you did,” Mikey nodded. “which is definitely out of the usual. Whenever anyone else here would go down and try to talk to him, he'd tell us to get the hell out,”  
“Well, he was like that at first. But when I asked him to come up and join the party with everyone else, he just apologized and told me he couldn’t, because there was apparently too much people up there,”  
“Well...that's only half of the truth,” Mikey scratched the back of his head.  
“What do you mean?” I asked, taking another sip of my water.  
“Well...one of the biggest reasons why he refuses to leave the basement is because…,” Mikey sighed, his eyes forlorn and full of hidden guilt. “he thinks that people are out to get him. That basement is his hiding place from those people,”  
“What kind of people?”  
“The authorities. The police. The FBI. The CIA. The whole damn government. The list goes on, man,” Mikey rubbed his forehead. “Nothing outta the average for a schizoid, thinking all these big names are out to get him,”  
I'm honestly not surprised. It's very sad to know he's really that messed up in the head, but I don't have a hard time believing it's true. After all, this is the same guy that chased me out of his filthy basement with a baseball bat.  
“Well, he never told me anything like that when I was around him,” I said, crossing my legs on the couch.  
“Well, Frank…can you tell me more about what he did talk to you about?” Mikey leaned in, his legs crossed as well.  
Alright. Now I feel like I'm with a shrink, that said shrink being Mikey, and me being the patient lying on the couch, being asked questions. Seriously. All Mikey needs is a notepad and pen to top it all off.  
“Well...Gerard kinda became a little more social when I asked him to come and hang out with me for a bit on his couch. We kinda just talked about all kinds of stuff-art, horror movies, personal life- y’know what I'm saying?”  
“What do you mean by ‘personal life’, Frank?”  
Oh, sweet mother of Christ. Maybe Mikey should have gone for a psychology major rather than play bass and sell comic books for a living.  
“Mikey...what I mean by that is I kinda went into detail about how I ended up here. I don't have to go into detail about that, do I?”  
“No, you don’t. Ray already told me and Bob,”  
Good. One less emotional meltdown for me.  
“So, Frank...how did he react to that?” Mikey pushed up his glasses, eyes still focused on me.  
“What, like how he reacted to me getting all personal and stuff?”  
“Yeah, that,”  
“He…well, I guess the best way I can put it is...he was consoling. Y’know, he took it all well, pretty much,”  
Mikey nodded, looking down as if taking in all the information I just gave him about his brother. He then glanced up at me again, readjusting his glasses a second time.  
“So, what you're saying is that he wasn't aggressive towards you up until...well, that one thing happened, right?”  
“Pretty much, I guess. There were a few times he seemed a little...off. Like, sometimes he avoided some questions I asked him. Then there was this one time on the first night where I swear he was talking to himself, but other than that...he was alright. Overall, shy at first, but as we talked more, he opened up a bit,”  
Are the questions over yet? Please, tell me it's all over. Right now I'm getting too many vibes from when I was in the psych ward and had to go to weekly appointments with a shrink.  
“You know what, Frank?” Mikey crossed his arms.  
“What?” I replied, taking another sip of my water.  
“I don't think I've ever seen my brother be like that around anyone…”  
“What? You don't think I'm lying, do you?”  
“No, I don't. I'm just saying that...okay, this may sound strange to you, but there might have been something about you that made him...well, click, I guess,”  
“Really? Because what I pretty much did was just encourage him to come outta his room and hang out, and he did. He told me he was lonely, and...when I came back the next night, he told me he appreciated me being there to talk to him and being there for him, when no one else would,”  
I think after saying that I instantly perplexed Dr. Mikey, the shrink.  
“What?”  
“Yeah, man. That's what he said. This is what I've been trying to tell you earlier. All he wanted was someone to be with him. He needed it, and I just so happened to be that someone…”  
We both sat in silence, Mikey still holding the same bewildered look on his face. He ran a hand through his hair, looking as frustrated as an honors student in an advanced calculus class.  
“So...if Gerard was really like this with you when you were around him...what made him snap?”  
I could barely get myself to open up my mouth. So much guilt just flooded over me, making me crash and burn. Gerard may have undoubtedly been responsible for attacking me, but...I'm the one that triggered him. I'm the one that tried weaseling too much information outta him. My own curiosity almost got me killed.  
“I...I asked him some questions…”  
“What kind of questions?” Mikey asked.  
“I...asked him how he knew Ray and Bob. I asked him how he came about to moving in here with the rest of us...I asked him too much, too soon…” I buried my face in my hands, wishing I could hide my own pathetic, ugly face forever.  
“Frank…” Mikey sighed. “It's not that you asked him too much too soon. You just asked questions that he really didn't wanna answer. You asked him questions that...reminded him of some of the things that happened to him…”  
“But, what exactly did I remind him of? What did happen to your brother, Mikey?” I asked.  
Mikey’s whole body seemed to have froze. After what seemed like several minutes, he slowly took off his glasses, wiped the lens off with his shirt, then put them back on. I could easily tell by the discontent in his eyes that he really, really doesn’t wanna talk about it, but has no other choice.  
“Alright, Frank...now this is what I’ve been told by Ray to talk to you about, but...I really didn’t want to…”  
“Why not?”  
“I think after I tell you everything, you’ll understand why,”  
“Alright,” I finished my water. “I’m listening,”  
Mikey folded his hands, looking down at the ground, then back up at me, the same sullen look on his face.  
“When me and my brother were little kids...our mom and dad were murdered...right in front of us,”  
I just about dropped my empty glass on the floor after hearing what Mikey just said. The butterflies in my stomach returned, just as strong as last time.  
“What?” I gasped. “Oh my god...I’m so sorry,”  
“Don’t be,” Mikey shook his head. “It was a long time ago. Besides, you had nothing to do with it,”  
“I know, but still...that’s awful,”  
It’s starting to make sense now. That was why Gerard avoided talking about his parents earlier. They were fucking murdered. Right in front of him. That’s why he yelled daddy and mama when he had his...well, “episode”. Christ, there are just some days where I despise the hell outta my mom and dad, but God forbid if they ever died in such a gruesome way…  
“I had to be like five when it happened. Gerard was eight, I think,” Mikey said, his eyes avoiding contact from mine.  
“How were they...you know, killed? I mean, if it’s alright if I ask-”  
“Burglars,” Mikey interrupted, his voice shaky. “Two guys broke in our house while we were all asleep. We all went in the living room to see what was going on and...there’s not much I can remember after that, but…I do remember our mom hiding us in the closet and locking the door to keep us safe…and after that...everything else became a blur. I can’t even remember how they were killed…which is a good thing, I guess...”  
I take back all the times I’ve been shitty with Mikey lately. I feel like such a dickhead right now. I don’t even know what to say. I just stood there silently, watching Mikey gradually become more and more uncomfortable talking about his and Gerard’s fucked up childhood.  
“We never saw each other for a long time after we were found by the police. We got separated by the foster system. We both grew up in different homes. I didn’t get to see my brother until I was eighteen…”  
“When was that?” I asked.  
It was at that moment where I swear, Mikey looked like he was trying his hardest not to cry.  
“When I found out he murdered three kids at his high school…” Mikey choked.  
My jaw nearly hit the ground. I just about shat bricks hearing what just came outta Mikey’s mouth.  
Oh my god...I haven’t just been hanging around with a guy with mental issues...I’ve been hanging out with a fucking murderer!  
“It happened on his eighteenth birthday-April 9th, 1995. Supposedly, the victims were all people that bullied Gerard really bad. The court said that Gerard killed them all in self-defense because they all attacked him, but...they declared him mentally incompetent to stand trial…”  
“What? Why?” I asked. “If it was self-defense, then shouldn’t he have been declared as not guilty?”  
“Because...” Mikey paused. “It was because of the way he murdered his victims...and the way he was when he was caught. He didn’t try escaping. When the police found him in the local park near the school...he was lying in the ground near the bodies...with the decapitated head of one of the victims wrapped in his arms like a teddy bear...and he was smiling…”  
I felt my insides turn to jelly. I’ve never been one to become grossed out or disgusted easily, but I swear I feel like I’m gonna throw up again. I just cannot imagine someone like Gerard-despite being as fucked up in the head as he is-literally decapitating someone and using it as a stuffed animal. Knowing that someone like that lives in your own fucking house is a thousand times scarier than the shit you see in the movies, or wherever else.  
“They said that he wouldn’t speak a single word when he was in custody of the police. They just said that he’d either stare off in the distance or just laugh out of nowhere for no reason…so obviously since he was so messed up in the head, he was committed to a state psychiatric hospital, where he’d get treatment so he would eventually be able to stand trial...and that’s where I got to see him…”  
A full-out state hospital? Jesus. Just hearing those two words make me wanna cringe, knowing my past experiences with being locked up in a psychiatric center. But the place where I was at was only at a psychiatric unit at a general hospital, not a full-fledged mental institution, where they keep the criminally insane. I don’t think I can even imagine how much worse it is at a place like that, compared to where I was at for a mere two and a half weeks or so. How in the hell was Mikey even allowed to visit Gerard in such a place?  
“What was he like when you saw him?” I asked.  
“I can't remember much, because it was such a long time ago, but...I do know I was eighteen. Gerard was twenty-one at the time. It was around Christmas time when I went to visit him,”  
Mikey closed his eyes and took a deep breath, held it in, then slowly exhaled, as if meditating.  
“When I got to the hospital to visit him, they made me wait for him in the day room. I wasn't allowed to visit him in his room...and for good reason,”  
“Why’s that?”  
“Well, first off, it's part of the rules for visitors. Also...his doctor told me he hadn't been doing too well lately, so I couldn’t see him for very long,”  
“Oh...I see,”  
“The aides brought him out in a wheelchair. They told me he was so out of it, he was shiftless, almost as if he were catatonic. He obviously looked like he wasn't all there in the head. He barely even made eye contact with me. He looked so...lost…”  
“Didn't you try telling him who you were?”  
“Of course I did!” Mikey exclaimed. “I was like, ‘hey, Gerard. It’s me, Michael, your little brother. Remember me?’ And he just sat there, totally confused. I told him that I haven't seen him since we were little, but he just kept sitting there, giving me the silent treatment. His mind was clearly off in another world…”  
The more Mikey talked about his brother, the harder it became for him to hold back his tears. Part of me feels like a jerk for making Mikey tell me about Gerard, but...I need to know what I'm up against. I need to know more about the man that tried attacking me earlier. I need to know what made Gerard become so damaged. But still...seeing Mikey so torn up about what happened to him and his brother is just so hard to watch, it’s almost soul-wrenching.  
“Mikey,” I said. “If you really don't wanna talk about it, that’s fine. I understand,”  
“No, Frank,” Mikey sniffled. “I have to tell you. I have to tell you so that you know just what kind of person he is. If only I told you everything earlier, none of this would have happened...But it’s better late than never, I suppose,”  
“That's true, but...I feel so bad for making you feel this way. I feel so bad for making you tell me all this about Gerard. I can't imagine how hard it must be to talk about him-”  
“Whoever said talking about my brother was gonna be easy, Frank?” Mikey interrupted, accusing me. “I told you, I didn't wanna have to talk about this, but I have to...since you were just so damn curious. But at least now...you know what he's really like. Now I think you see why Ray and I begged you to not go down there, right?”  
As much as I cannot stand being given the “told you so” treatment from Mikey, I really hate to say this...but he's right. I was a fool for going against his word. My own curiosity and selfishness not only almost got me killed, but it made Gerard's little brother be forced to look back at painful memories. And because of all that, I feel like a miserable piece of shit.  
“Anyway…,” Mikey continued, not letting me answer his question. “When I saw Gerard, he didn't look too well either. In fact, far from it. I could barely even recognize him, since I haven’t seen him since he was a little kid. He looked like something the cat threw up...he was just a complete mess…”  
Probably no different than how he was when I first saw him, I thought to myself. I can just envision what he must've looked like when he saw Mikey for the first time in several years; long and messy black hair, sunken eyes, ghostly pale skin, bruised face, and frail body. The only difference there probably was was his age and likely wearing a hospital gown instead of a black T-shirt and pajama pants.  
“So, when I tried to get him to recognize me, nothing worked. I was about to give up, until he suddenly looked up at me and stared. He reached across the table and grabbed my glasses, then took them off. Of course, I can barely see without these things on,” Mikey pointed to his glasses, tapping on then lightly. “I told him to please give them back to me, and I tried explaining to him that I need them to see, but he just continued to stare at me...then, he finally spoke…”  
“What did he say?”  
“He...he said…,” Mikey stuttered. “He said my name...he said Michael...then he said Mikey, like how he always called me when we were kids. He never recognized me with glasses, since I never had to wear them until I was like twelve. It was then in that moment that I think he finally remembered who I was...and that’s when he lost it…,”  
By his point, Mikey was literally shaking...and all I could do was sit there and watch in complete shock as I listened to him tell me about his experience visiting brother.  
“He started to hit himself in the head and yell at himself...like he was trying to fight one of the voices in his head or something. When I tried to calm him down, he just screamed at me. He tried to grab me and kept telling me ‘don’t look, Mikey…they’re both dead’, over and over again. At first, I didn’t know what he was talking about...but I noticed he also kept yelling “daddy” and “mama” constantly. He was having a traumatic flashback of what happened to our parents so many years ago...He was just so hysterical that the aides ran in and held him down to sedate him. He just wouldn’t stop screaming and crying...and-and thrashing, and rambling, and hitting himself. It was at that moment I knew I had to leave. I just couldn't bear to see him like that…”  
“I don't blame you. He was almost the same exact way with me when he…” I stopped myself, knowing the more we talked about Gerard, the more upset Mikey became. “I'm really sorry, man. I truly am,”  
“I really don't know what made him that way,” Mikey said through chattering teeth, his face contorted with tearful anguish. “I know it can be very traumatizing when your parents are murdered right in front of you. It messed me up for a while. I still get nightmares about it from time to time, but I got help. I've learned to accept it and move on, but...based off how I saw Gerard was in the hospital, and how he is now especially...I highly doubt he got any kind of help. If anything...I think that the complete opposite happened with him,”  
“You mean, like, when you guys were both in foster homes?”  
“Yeah, pretty much. Not to say it was a bed of roses for me growing up, but...it wasn't outright terrible. So, what I'm saying is...a lot of really bad things must've happened to Gerard, even though I don't know what exactly...but I think that's why he's the way he is,”  
That's undeniably true. There's no way that something that happened to him so many years ago could have messed him up that bad. From what I remember learning in psychology class in high school (when I paid attention, at least), memories of very traumatic events are often repressed deep into the unconscious mind, sometimes to the point where it’s barely remembered, or even not remembered at all (but hey, I could be wrong. After all, I’m a 23 year-old college dropout, not a psychologist). It wasn’t just one thing that made him such a basket case, but a series of awful things...but the question is, what did exactly happen to him?  
“How long was he in the state hospital? How did he get out?”  
“I'm not entirely sure, to be honest,” Mikey shrugged, seeming a little more calm and collected than before...but only a little bit. “He was eighteen when he did what he did to those kids, and it wasn't until a few years later when I got to see him in the hospital, and...it wasn't until another few or so years later when I got to see him again, this time when Ray brought him here…”  
“Really?” My eyes lit up. “So Ray knew him too?”  
“Apparently. He told me he knew Gerard when they were both in high school,”  
“But I don't think I ever saw Gerard in high school. Come to think of it, I don't think he even went to the same school as us,”  
“No, he didn't. Gerard went to a school called Monroeville High, which isn't far from where you and Ray went. I was homeschooled, though,”  
“So how did Ray know Gerard then?”  
“Ray told me he would occasionally hang out with some friends at a place called Monroeville park, where he would sometimes find Gerard at, and I guess that's how their relationship started,”  
“Was he any different in high school than he is now?”  
“That, I'm not sure. I would ask Ray myself, but at this rate...that's not a good idea,” Mikey sighed.  
Obviously, it isn't a good idea, especially now. I swear, if Mikey tells Ray anything about what the hell just happened...I'm gonna snap.  
“From what little that Ray's told me in the past, he recalled Gerard being very shy, of course. And a good artist. He said that Gerard would always be sitting on a bench under a tree, drawing in his sketchbook,”  
“Of course. Drawing really seems to be Gerard's thing. He's honestly a really good artist, man. You should see some of his work,”  
“Yeah,” Mikey smiled briefly, nodding his head in approval. “He is. So I guess that based off how Ray has always been, he hung around Gerard out of sympathy for him, seeing how he was such an outcast. And because of Ray's sympathy...that was why Ray brought Gerard to live with us,”  
“Where did he find Gerard?” I asked.  
“Well…he told me he found Gerard out in the streets downtown,”  
“Seriously? Like how he found me?”  
“Well, Ray told me he found you hanging out in a bar, if I’m not mistaken…” Mikey paused. “But for Gerard...Ray found him in an alley, hiding in a cardboard box…”  
“Oh...jesus,” I sighed. I guess that’s another thing me and Gerard have in common; we both know what it’s like to be homeless. “If that's so, how did Gerard get out of the hospital?” I asked.  
“Again, I don't know. When I tried asking Gerard about it, he told me he was discharged...which I honestly think is a lie. Gerard still had to stand trial for the murders, so the hospital wouldn't just let him go, obviously. He didn’t even have a home when Ray found him,”  
“Huh,” I scratched my head, bewildered by such a statement. “That’s strange. You don’t think he escaped, do you?”  
“Oh, heaven forbid if that were the case. The place where Gerard was at was a high-security institution, so I don’t think it would’ve been that easy for him to escape…”  
“That’s true,” I nodded. “So, when Gerard relocated here, was he always a hermit? Did he just decide to start living in the basement and never wanted to come out?”  
“Oh, yeah. Definitely. We told him he can sleep in the basement since there’s a spare bedroom, and he pretty much made it at home down there. We tried to get him to come out a little more and join the living upstairs, but he flat out refused. We tried convincing him to get a job, but...that didn’t work well. It's not like he would really be able to get one anyway, considering his criminal background and his mental state. Hell, there were times he grew physically violent with us whenever we tried to get him to come out, which was mainly why we kept telling you to not bother him. We all just kinda gave up after a while, because it was clear to us that he was not gonna change,”  
“And you guys were all okay with that? You don’t mind him living down there?” I asked, getting more and more skeptical the more Mikey told me about the antisocial, jobless roommate.  
“Well, what can we do, Frank? We can’t just kick him out. He’d have no place to go. Besides, I don’t think I can ever do that to my brother. If I could’ve had my way, I would have had him sent back to a mental institution, but doing that is easier said than done…”  
“How so?”  
I think at this point Mikey gave up on trying to hold back his tears. He took off his glasses and dabbed at his eyes, crying in silence.  
“What do you mean ‘how so’?” He pouted. “Can you imagine sending off your one and only brother to a fucking mental institution, where you’ll likely never see or hear from them again? I know it sounds like the right thing to do, considering how sick he is, but...it’s just so hard. I really, really wanna give him another chance to get better, I really do, Frank. But after he’s shown his true colors to us, especially to you...I’ve just about lost all hope. I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do with him anymore. I just really hate having to give up on him, but...it’s become clear to me that he’s a lost cause at this point…”  
I really don’t know what to say. After all that Mikey has told me about Gerard, I’m at a loss for words. All this time, Ray and Mikey were hiding Gerard from me like a dirty secret; a dirty secret that they both can barely face themselves; a dirty secret that’s so messed up, but so beautiful at the same time.  
A dirty secret that’s not hopeless like Mikey says.  
“Mikey...I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry for being so ignorant all this time,” I said.  
“It’s alright, Frank,” Mikey replies, the tears in his eyes gone. “At least, now you know…”  
I do know. But I don’t know enough. I still need answers. I’m not ready to put this whole thing to rest just yet.  
“Now that all that is behind us...I’m gonna go back to bed. I’ve got work in the afternoon,” Mikey stood up from the couch.  
“Alright, man. See you later,” I waved as Mikey walked outta the living room and down the hall to his bedroom.  
“Night, Frank,” Mikey said before closing his bedroom door.  
I laid back down on the couch, not even bothering to change into a pair of pajamas before crashing for the night. I know what I’m gonna do tomorrow morning on my day off from work.  
I’m gonna find more answers about Gerard.


	7. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

Warning: This chapter contains graphic material some readers may find upsetting. Read at your own risk.

I wasn’t able to sleep very well last night. I spent the whole night (or at least what remained of it) tossing and turning on the futon, barely able to get comfortable while my mind kept on racing with thoughts of what happened between me and the Way brothers that very same night. The bruise on my chest kept throbbing and hurting like hell the whole time, constantly reminding me of the person that gave it to me in the midst of his psychotic rage, as well as his dark, yet still mysterious past that’s been revealed to me by his younger brother.

  
Despite all that Mikey has told me, the puzzle that is Gerard’s backstory still remains unfinished. There’s still some pieces that are missing, and finding them is what I’m gonna do when I eventually get my tired ass outta bed. I’m not gonna piss away my whole day off laying in bed, as much I feel tempted to. I want this day off to count. I want to spend this day off learning more about the man in the basement that’s not a lost cause, like his brother says he is. I also want to call Ray to make sure everything’s alright with him. It’s the right thing to do. After all, if it hadn’t been for him, I’d still be sleeping on a cold bench in the middle of a park instead of a futon in a home. I also would have never met that aforementioned man in the basement. I need to ask Ray where the local library is, so I can start searching for more answers about Gerard. I just hope that when I do call him, he doesn’t bring up anything about last night, if Mikey told him anything about it. God forbid that he told him anything...

  
After taking a shower and eating breakfast, I dialed Ray’s number as I sat at the kitchen table with my fourth (and definitely not last) cup of coffee in my hand.

  
“Hello?” He answered.

  
“Hey, man. It’s me, Frank,”

  
“Oh, hey there,” he replied, his usual upbeat and peppy tone absent from his voice. “What’s up?”

  
“Not much. Just took a shower and ate some breakfast, getting the day started. You?”

  
“Same, pretty much. Mikey told you what happened, right?”

  
“Yeah, he did. I’m really sorry. How’s your mom?”

  
“She…” Ray sighed remorsefully. “She’s okay, but...she’s got a lot of recovering to do. She broke her shoulder, as well as a couple ribs and her left leg. She also had a concussion, but her doctor said it’s nothing serious, thankfully.”

  
“How long she gonna be in the hospital?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.

  
“The doctor said after a little less than a week they’ll let her go. She’s gonna be sent to a rehabilitation facility where she’s gonna get physical therapy and all that other stuff. I’m gonna be seeing her again today, actually,”

  
“Oh, alright. I hope that goes well. I hope she gets well too,”

  
“Thanks, Frank,” Ray said, his voice a little less sullen. “I really appreciate it,”

  
“No problem,” I said, suddenly remembering what I’ve been wanting to ask Ray. “Hey, I got a question,”

  
“What’s that?”

  
“You happen to know if there’s a library around here? I wanna stop by there for a while,”

  
“Really? No work today?”

  
“Nah. Got the day off. Kinda figured I would pick up something to read, you know?”

  
“Really?” Ray’s voice rose suspiciously. “Since when did you start reading, Frank? I thought you hated reading?”

  
Damn it. I can’t tell Ray why I really wanna go to the library. Of course not. Plan A has already faltered; I don’t like reading, and I never did. Not even in high school. I always hated it, and my hatred in reading really came out when I had to read and do a stupid book project on John Steinbeck’s East of Eden in my freshman English class. God, I hated that book so much…

  
I really hate English class too.

  
And anything written by John Steinbeck.

  
“Well, I did…” I said, thinking of plan B last minute. “Until recently. I started to get into reading when I started college. Started reading a lot of Stephen King, you know?”

  
I honestly don’t even really know who Stephen King is. I know he’s written a lot of horror novels, but I of course haven’t read a single one. I’ve only seen a few of his film adaptations in the past, but that’s it. It’s just the first name of an author that popped into my head, other than John Steinbeck, of course.

  
“Oh really? I love that guy!” Ray exclaimed, his happy-go-lucky self returning. “What books have you read from him?”

  
“Oh, uh…” I stuttered, trying to remember the names of the film adaptations that I’ve seen several years ago. “The Shining, Carrie, and Pet Sematary-”

  
“Oh, The Shining is really good! Don’t ever read that one alone at nighttime,” Ray sang.

  
“Yeah, definitely. Got any suggestions?” I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing my backup plan is working.

  
“I’d go check out It, if the book’s there at the library. It’s a long read, but it’s so good. It’s about this killer clown. Really spooky shit,”

  
“Oh, alright. I’ll see if I can find it,” I lied. I hate clowns, and I definitely wouldn’t wanna read a whole novel about one. Clowns scare the living shit outta me as much as spiders. I really fucking hate spiders…

  
“Cool beans, Frank. The library’s about ten or so minutes away from home. It’s on Liberty Street, across from the post office. Hard to miss,”

  
“Alright, got it. Thanks, man,” I grabbed a pen and paper conveniently placed close to me on the table and wrote down Ray’s directions.

  
“No problem. I’m actually gonna have to go right now. I’m gonna start driving to the hospital,”

  
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later, I guess,”

  
“Will do. Later, Frank,” Ray hung up as I read over the directions he just gave me. I set the phone down, feeling so relieved that Ray didn’t mention anything about what happened last night. I really don’t wanna get another earful from him, and I certainly don’t wanna be reminded of what happened between me and Gerard…

  
I can’t help but think what Gerard could be doing right now downstairs, all alone once again. What did he do after I ran out of the basement in the midst of his psychotic episode? Does he regret what he tried to do to me? Is he even thinking of me? Does he even miss me? Because I’m thinking of him...and this may sound crazy, but…

  
I really miss him. A lot.

After arriving at the public library and registering a card (which I know I'll never use again after this), I checked myself into one of the computers in a private conference room to avoid any suspicious onlookers. I don't want anyone to think something's up if they see me looking up information on a known murderer and (maybe) escaped mental patient. I also wanna see if I can find more information on the murder of Gerard and Mikey’s parents, as well as the cunts that were responsible for it.

After opening up the internet browser, I decided to just start with the basics. I took a deep breath before typing his name…

  
Gerard Way

  
I tapped the Enter button, only to be greeted with a plethora of results, much of it being what I expected to find-news reports. I clicked the first one that popped up, which took me to a website that contained the whole news article, as well as a title:

“Gerard A. Way, 18, taken in police custody for alleged murder of 3 Monroeville teens”-- Monroeville, New Jersey--Gerard Arthur Way, an 18 year-old high school student, has been arrested by police this Sunday (April 9th) after the alleged murder of three high school students (William Walsh, Craig Kinkle, and David Connor). Officer Cole claims that he and fellow officers found Way at the scene of the crime (in Monroeville Park, near Monroeville High School), near the bodies of the deceased victims. Officer Cole says that when he found and tried questioning Way, he was “uncooperative and silent, yet not resistant when confronted. He was lying on the ground near Walsh’s body, with his severed head wrapped in Way’s arms”. Way was taken into police custody, where he will be further questioned about the murders, as well as undergo a psychiatric evaluation to determine if he’ll be fit to stand trial-”

Mikey was definitely right; Gerard did murder those three kids after all. I don't know why Mikey would ever lie about such a thing. He did also mention that these kids all used to bully Gerard though, if I'm not mistaken. What if this really is all true? What if those bullies tried physically attacking Gerard? If they did, then Gerard obviously fought back...but took it a little too far, clearly. What did these supposed bullies do to Gerard? Did they just keep terrorizing him until he eventually snapped and had enough of it all?

  
I need to stop asking myself so many questions. I'm only starting to touch the tip of the iceberg here. I scrolled down the article, skimming through more information about how the murders could have possibly went down, and how “grotesque” it was to the people unfortunate to stumble upon it, and so on. Then, something caught my attention-some photographs. They're pictures of people. The first three are what appears to be photos of the victims. The first, William Walsh (the kid whose head became Gerard’s fucked up version of a teddy bear) is a tall, masculine kid sporting a school football jersey and an expensive-looking haircut. Clearly the jock type. The one thing about him that really throws me off (other than the unpleasant “popular ass-kissing jock kid that's probably captain of the school football team” vibes he gives me) is the pearly-white toothed shit eating grin on his tanned face, similar to Derek Groell’s.

  
Wow, this kid seemed like a real jackass.

  
The next photo is one of Craig Kinkle, a shorter guy, with looks that reek of as much hoidey-toidiness as William, sans the football jersey. Neatly-combed blonde hair, light skin, pearly-white teeth, and designer-brand clothes. Nothing out of the ordinary, but just as cringe-worthy. Next.

  
David Connor. Tall, but not as well-built as Walsh. In fact, he's on the more heavier side, but still isn't shy of the yuppie look, just like Walsh and Kinkle; dressed in clothes that just screams “I'm a rich schmuck with a chip on my shoulder and long list of friends at school that are also rich schmucks”.

  
I really don’t find it that hard to believe that these guys bullied Gerard. They really seem to be the type, honestly. I say that because these were the same kinds of assholes that picked on me and Ray in high school; kids with as much money and popularity as their egos. However, what I wanna know is how Gerard managed to kill all three of the guys, considering the fact that he was outnumbered and he’s clearly not the athletic type, and he of course was (supposedly) confronted by three guys that clearly are. From what this article reads, there’s nothing about him wielding a gun. In fact, it says that his weapon of choice was a hunting knife (which obviously was the same thing he used to cut off William’s head). Who knows.

  
I scrolled further down to find one last photo; it’s Gerard’s mugshot. It’s a younger Gerard, his hair a lighter color and a little shorter than it is now, his face a little fuller and not as pale. What’s no different are his eyes; his hazel eyes are as vacant and lightless as they were when we first met that fateful night in the basement. His gaze is void of even a hint of emotion, almost staring at me through the screen. He’s just so young. He’s still beautiful, but the look in his eyes tell a story that’s far from that; it’s a story that tell how he’s been wrongfully robbed of so much; his parents, his youth, his innocence, and so much more; and it was done at the hands of some awful people.

  
I exited out of the first article and stumbled upon another one; it’s one stating Gerard being declared “mentally unfit to stand trial” and confined to Trenton State Psychiatric Hospital, just like Mikey said. It has the same photo of Gerard’s mugshot. It goes on to say that due to his past history of mental illness and his incapability to recall what happened on the night of the murders in Monroeville Park that Sunday night, that he’ll be staying in the state hospital to receive psychiatric treatment; again, just like Mikey said. The article concludes with saying that the murders may as well have been in self-defense, due to new “staggering” evidence that has appeared after further investigation of the crime scene.

  
After more searching, I stumbled upon yet another news article; one that really caught my attention after reading the headline:

Trenton, New Jersey (Thursday, August 5th, 1999)--Gerard Way, a 22 year-old mental patient and convicted killer of three Monroeville teens, has escaped Trenton State Hospital last night on Wednesday, the 4th. Police are-

So he did escape! A part of me knew that really was the case. He wouldn’t have been discharged at all, not when he still had a trial to stand. But how did he do it, despite Trenton State being such a high-security institution? The article doesn’t seem to go into much detail. It just goes on to say how police are out looking for him, as well as describe the murders Gerard’s committed four years earlier. It also depicts the very same vacant-eyed Gerard’s mugshot. Still young. Still emotionless, yet still so beautiful...

  
What would Mikey think if he found out that his brother did indeed escape from the hospital? Surely he didn’t believe what Gerard told him, how he was discharged. I honestly don’t think he’d be surprised. But, I could be wrong. Dead wrong, in fact. Would Mikey change his mind about not turning his brother in? If so, then there’s just a part of me saying that I really shouldn’t tell him the truth...

  
So now that I know that Gerard definitely escaped, it just dawned on me- we’re housing an escaped mental patient, and that’s why he doesn’t wanna leave that basement; because he’s afraid of getting caught. He decided the best way to stay off the radar was to hide in someone’s dark basement, only to never again come out. He just lives in his own little world, living his life away drawing, cutting himself off from the world outside of him, as well as the people in it. That is, until he let me into his world, a world so dark and desolate and unknown, yet also stunning and fascinating and breathtaking.

  
There’s one last thing I need to look up before I can finally put all this to rest (at least, for now. I don’t think the internet is gonna tell me everything I wanna know about Gerard). I need to find what I can about what tragically happened to his and Mikey’s mom and dad. It honestly doesn't feel right Iooking up information about someone's dead parents, but I need to know what happened to the people that killed them. I hope to God they got caught. I hope that they got what they deserve.  
After searching high and low on the internet through article after article, I think I finally found what I've been looking for-

September 17th, 1985 (Newark, New Jersey)-- Police are out on the search for two possible suspects for the burglary and murder of Donald and Donna Way. The married couple were found dead in their home last night when police arrived after a 911 phone call from a neighbor, who complained of a possible domestic dispute that was taking place next door. Officer Johnson states that when he and fellow officers arrived on the scene, he found Mr. and Mrs. Way's bodies had both been stabbed and strangled, indicating that there was indeed foul play involved. Police also found two survivors of the incident, the Way family’s two sons (Gerard, 8, and Michael, 5) who were both locked in the closet. They have both been taken into custody for treatment.

  
After much investigation, the two suspects are indicated to be Cecil Jones (32), and Irvine Bagninski (39). They are both felons that have both been previously convicted of a slue of crimes, from armed robbery to grand theft auto, amongst others.

  
I looked at the two mugshots of the two murderers. They look like shit. Cecil is a big, burly guy with a beard that looks like it hasn't been kempt in a long time, while Irvine is a scrawny, shorter guy with a scarred, sunken face. These are the two fuckers that have ruined the lives of the Way brothers, especially Gerard’s. I sat there, cussing them both out in my mind, feeling my blood boil.

  
I tried searching some more to see if I can find out if the two culprits have been caught. As it turns out, they have, and only one of them is still serving his sentence to this day. They were both caught in the midst of an attempted armed robbery, and were both sent to federal prison after both being found guilty. Cecil got the life sentence, while for Irvine, for some fucked up reason, got a mere twelve years with a chance of parole. Why, though? I don't know much about how the judicial system works, but if he really was responsible for the murders, as well as other previous crimes, he should have gotten a much heavier sentence.

  
I did the math in my head; it's 2004 right now. It's nineteen years after the murders, as well as Cecil and Irvine getting caught.

  
Irvine is now free. After he murdered someone’s parents, for fuck's sake! What strings did he have to pull to get out with such a lenient sentence? After searching high and low how something so ridiculous came to be, I came to a dead end with almost no results. The only thing I can really find out about being him released was because of something along the lines of “a lack of evidence” and “good behavior”. But aside from that, I think I know enough now. Gerard and Mikey's parents were murdered by these two scumbags. They broke into their home, and just killed them in cold blood, and probably also took some valuables with them as well. Gerard and Mikey at the time were both little kids, barely able to comprehend what was taking place right in front of them. Their parents died saving them, locking them both in the closet, out of harm’s way. Both of their lives changed dramatically that night, especially Gerard’s. They were separated, only to never see each other for several years. I still have no idea what happened to Gerard growing up in the foster system, but something tells me it was far from a walk in the park. Aside from all that, I think I’ve found everything I’m looking for, for the most part. Slowly, but surely, I’m starting to learn more about Gerard, and what made him the way he is today. With all that being said, I now know what to do when I return home. I need to see Gerard again. I need to apologize to him for my sheer ignorance. I need to make sure he’s okay…

When I got home from the library, I went around the house to make sure that Mikey wasn’t home from work yet. When I saw that the coast was clear, I made my way down the hall and stopped in front of the basement door. I’m shaking. I’m sweating. My chest is pounding. I shut my eyes.

  
Come on, Frank. Get your shit together already. You have to do this. All you gotta do is breathe. Just breathe.

  
I took a deep breath with my eyes still shut, then let it all out, feeling my body ease up a bit. I’m still scared, but I can’t just stand here and waste my time. Gerard’s waiting for me.

  
I opened up the door and entered the void, greeted by the familiar pure darkness and stench of mildew. I once again made my way down the stairs, with the light of my cell phone as my flashlight. I stepped over countless piles of garbage and turned down the hall, with Gerard’s bedroom door in sight. I made my way to it, then suddenly stopped. I hear something, and it’s coming from beyond the door. I crept up and pressed my ear against it, trying to hear the noises better. I hear sniffling and sobbing…

  
Someone’s crying.

  
Gerard’s crying…

  
He’s crying for me…

  
I felt my heart begin to break into tiny pieces. I was right. He was waiting for me all along. He regrets what he did. He pushed away the only person that was there for him, and now he’s all alone, waiting for that person to come back to him, like a lost puppy searching for it’s owner.

  
“Gerard?” I said, tapping on the door. “You alright? It’s me...Frankie,”

  
No response.

  
“Gerard?” I called out again, knocking. “Come on, open up. It’s Frankie,”

  
Still no response.

  
I don’t wanna be rude and barge in, but I can’t bear to stand here, painstakingly waiting. I just wanna see him again. I wanna tell him I’m so sorry for what I said. I wanna tell him that I forgive him for what he did last night. I wanna hold him and tell him everything’s okay…

  
I turned the knob, and opened up his bedroom door.

  
“Ger-”

  
I froze, my eyes barely able to take in what’s in front of them. His room’s a mess, but not like the mess outside of it. It isn’t just a mess of garbage. It’s a mess of art all over the walls, but not the same artwork he’s shown me before. This artwork plastered all over the walls isn’t of superheroes, or horror icons, or anything like that. Instead, it’s drawn and painted pictures of dead bodies, each one being horribly mutilated in different ways. Some of the bodies are dismembered or disemboweled, or skinned alive, or burned alive, or however else someone can be brutally slaughtered. One picture that came to my eye was a picture of someone being boiled to death, while another one showed someone’s body being sawed into two, with his body being hung upside down and sprawled out, with two people sawing him in half, starting in between his legs, and making their way down, tearing through him with his guts spilling out. Another particular one that caught my attention was a picture of someone’s head being crushed to death with a baseball bat-which would have easily happened to mine last night, had I not made it out alive from the artist’s rageful frenzy. The head in the picture is so smashed and disfigured that it barely even looks like a head, and more like roadkill, it’s entrails splattered all over the place, with the baseball bat above it dripping with blood and brain matter.

  
I stepped back and covered my mouth, my insides recoiling out of pure disgust and devastation. This is nothing like it is in the movies. I have seen some really nasty stuff on the t.v screen, but none of that comes close to what’s in this room. These grotesque and detailed pictures look so real, like they’re actual photos of people being brutally murdered. What’s worse is that I know the person who made all these pictures, and they were all made by a complete madman. This was why Gerard didn’t want me to see his bedroom that one night. He was hiding something from me in here, something I wish I can have erased from my memory.

  
After regaining myself, I stepped back into Gerard’s bedroom, keeping my eyes away from the ghastly art on the walls. I still need to find him.

  
“Gerard?” I called out weakly, still gagging a little. “Where are you?”

  
I turned around and found another door in the back corner of the bedroom. It appears to be a closet door, riddled with peeling paint and scratch marks.  
“Mikey…” a low, shaky, and familiar voice erupted from it. “Mikey, don’t look. Please, little brother...please don’t look,”

  
Mikey? What is he talking about? Mikey’s not here…

  
“Gerard?” I called out again, now knowing where he’s hiding. I walked over to the closet door, tapping on it. “Are you okay?”

  
“Mikey, please!” the voice cried out. “Don’t look! Daddy...mama...they’re...oh, god-they’re-”

  
“Gerard!” I opened up the door, my whole body beginning to shake again. “Gerard, are you-”

  
I stood there frozen in dismay when I saw Gerard. He’s on the floor, curled up in a ball with his hands clawed into his legs. His sunken eyes are wide and raw with tears, bound by psychosis. His hair is once again a complete mess, very tangled and obscuring his pale, newly bruised face. He sat there shivering and ranting, telling his little brother to look away, who’s clearly not here. I don’t think I could ever stop the tears that began to well up in my eyes.

  
“D-don’t look, little brother,” he stuttered. “Don’t look at daddy and mama. They’re...th-they’re-”

  
“Gerard!” I yelled, kneeling down to him. I waved a hand in front of his face, trying to get him to snap back into reality. “Gerard, snap out of it! It’s me, Frankie!”

  
“Don’t look, Mikey…” Gerard muttered, ignoring me. “Don’t look, Mikey….Don’t look, Mikey….Don’t-”

  
“Gerard!” I cried desperately, putting my hands on his shoulders and shaking him. “Come on, Gee! Wake up! Please! Gee!”

  
Gerard’s head snapped up as he gasped, his eyes still wide and frantically scanning his surroundings. He stopped and looked up at me, his body still in the same shaking and helpless fetal position.

  
“F-frankie?” He stuttered, sniffling. “Is that you?”

  
“Yes,” I replied, pushing his bangs away from his face. I put my hand on his cheek, feeling his cold skin against my fingertips. “It is. I’m here, Gee...”

  
“Frankie…” Gerard reached a shaking hand out to me, touching my face. He shook his head, his eyes scanning my face. “Frankie...oh my god…”

  
Gerard leapt up and wrapped his arms around me tightly, nearly making me fall back. He buried his face in my shoulder, his cries muffled in my jacket. I held on to him, accepting his embrace as well as the tears that continued to soak my eyes.

  
“Oh, Frankie...I’m so sorry! I thought I lost you forever!” He cried.

  
“No, you didn’t,” I said, my voice choked by my own tears. “I’m right here, Gerard. You won’t lose me,”

  
“Do you swear?” Gerard asked, his hands tightly gripping my shoulders.

  
“I swear on my fucking grave, Gerard. I should be the one saying sorry, though. Not you,”

  
“But why, Frankie? I’m the one that’s responsible!” Gerard exclaimed. “You shouldn’t be apologizing, I should be! I’m the one that tried to hurt you! I could have killed you!”

  
“I know, but…I know you didn’t mean it,” I sighed, looking down out of guilt. “I’m the one that triggered you because I was so ignorant...I didn’t know…”

  
“Frankie,” Gerard cupped my chin in his hand, bringing my head up. “That’s no reason to blame yourself. There’s no excuse for what I tried to do to you. It’s all my fault,”

  
“But Gerard, I-”

  
“No butts, Frankie,” he interrupted. “Sure, you didn’t know anything...but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who couldn’t control his own fucking emotions…”

  
I honestly don’t know what to say. What Gerard did was irrational, but I can’t stand sitting here watching him blame himself for everything. His parents were fucking murdered in front of him and his brother, and I foolishly made him look back at a memory so horrible. He’s clearly still haunted by it to this day, seeing how he was just minutes ago…

  
“Frankie,” Gerard said. “I don’t know how in the hell you can ever forgive me for hurting you, but...I’m happy you came back…”

  
Once again, Gerard smiled that same genuine smile that I just love so much. Slowly, but surely, the Gerard that I know is coming back to me, and damn it, it needs to stay that way.

  
“Don’t worry, I do forgive you,” I smiled back, despite starting to feel uncomfortable sitting in this dark and cramped closet. “How about if we find a place to sit, if you don’t mind? I’m not a big fan of tight spaces…”

  
“Oh, yeah...sorry,”

  
Gerard and I stood up and left the closet. Before I could ask him where we should relocate, he froze right in front of me, standing in the middle of his room that’s covered to every corner in the violently graphic and obscene drawings.

  
“Gerard? You okay?” I asked.

  
“No,” he replied hesitantly. “No, I’m not...I’m not okay,”

  
“Why not?”

  
“Because,” Gerard hung his head down. “I didn’t want you to see my room...and I think now you can see why,”

  
“I don’t mind,” I said, saying only half the truth. I’m no stranger to seeing people’s bodies being mangled and mutilated so viciously, but the only time I’ve seen stuff like that was in horror movies. This stuff here in Gerard’s bedroom is way different, and much darker…

  
“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, his voice clearly sarcastic. “You see this shit...and now you must think I’m some kind of wacko, huh?”

  
“I don’t think you’re wacko,” I pouted. “It’s okay, seriously. I’ve seen much worse. Besides, there are people out there that cover their walls with much more fucked up things,”

  
“I know, but still...this was why I prefered us staying out in the living room instead. I was just scared that if you saw all this that I’d scare you away or something…”  
“Well, you didn’t. Really, Gerard. It’s fine,”

  
Gerard just stood there with his head still hung down, looking guilty.

  
“Frankie…” He looked up, his back still facing me. “Did Mikey tell you anything about me?”

  
Oh, no. I should have known he’d be asking me that. I can't just lie to him. I have to tell Gerard that his little brother did in fact tell me things about him. I need to be careful, though. The worst that can happen is if I say something wrong and I make Gerard have another episode like he did last night. I swear, talking to Gerard is like walking on eggshells, sometimes.

  
“Yeah, he did…”

  
“What did he say?”

  
“He…” I paused, thinking carefully of how to put all the words together without sounding too…well, triggering I guess. “He told me that you...ah, well-”

  
“Just spit it out, Frankie” Gerard interrupted. 

  
“But Gerard-”

  
“What did I tell you about butts, Frankie?” Gerard smirked, turning back to me. “Trust me, I won't get upset. I just need to know,”

  
“You promise you won't get upset?” I asked.

  
“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to-”

  
“Alright, alright,” I laughed. “Gotcha,”

  
I really hope he's right. I still feel awful for upsetting him so much on that dreadful night. I never, ever wanna see him like that again.

  
“So…” I started. “after what happened between us last night, Mikey and I had a little talk. Ever since I moved in here, him and Ray kept telling me to not come down here to see you, but of course I didn't listen…”

  
“Why did they tell you that?” Gerard asked.

  
“Because...they told me you didn't like being bothered, and that you were...dangerous,”

  
“Oh,” he frowned. “I see,”

  
“Yeah...so last night when Mikey and I talked, he pretty much opened up to me about your guys’s past…”

  
“Like what?”

  
“About…” I paused, still hoping to God that Gerard is right. “...about what happened to your parents when you were little…”

  
Gerard stood silent, looking down at the ground. Time seemed to drag on for eternity the longer we stayed like that in complete silence, standing in Gerard’s room. Finally, he looked back up at me, his face lacking any expression.

  
“Let's go sit down in the living room,” he said.

  
“Okay,” I replied, following him to the couch. We both sat down, our eyes immediately regaining contact with each other.

  
“So...now you know about what happened to them, Frankie?” Gerard asked.

  
“Yes. You two got separated afterwards. Mikey told me that you guys grew up in different foster homes, and you didn't see each other until years later…”

  
“That's true,” Gerard said flatly. “but I was in so many different homes. So much, that I’m surprised I haven’t lost count,”

  
“Really? How many?”

  
“Do you really wanna know?” Gerard chuckled cynically.

  
“I guess so,”

  
“I was in fifteen. In a span of nearly ten years,”

  
“Seriously?” I almost gasped, hearing such a high number. Higher than I expected. “Jesus…must’ve been pretty crazy going through so many,”

  
“It was,” Gerard sighed. “But hey, it’s all over now. It has been when I turned eighteen…”

  
“Right,” I said, suddenly realizing what happened on Gerard’s eighteenth birthday; it was the same day he killed those three bullies in Monroeville Park. Should I bring that up to him? Would that even be a good idea-

  
“Did Mikey tell you what I did on my eighteenth birthday?” Gerard suddenly said smirking, ironically coming off as charming, despite hinting at something he did that’s far from that. Just the way he’s looking at me with those radiating hazel eyes and that...fucking seducing smile is making me blush before I could even realize it…

  
“Yeah,” I said under my breath, my eyes unable to look away from his strangely hypnotizing stare. “he did…,”

  
Gerard stayed silent for a few seconds, until he suddenly bursted out in laughter, throwing his head back. He glanced back at me, the smile not vanishing from his face.

  
“Oh, so he did?” He said, still cackling. “I see. It was honestly the best fucking birthday gift I’ve ever got, Frankie…”

  
Is he serious? Gerard has killed three people, and used one of the victim’s head as his bedtime buddy, and he’s laughing? Sure, they were all assholes for bullying him and attacking him, but does he really think fucking murdering three teenagers is a laughing matter? This guy doesn’t just have a dark sense of humor, he has a twisted and very fucked up sense of humor.

  
“They tried to hurt me…” Gerard whispered, the laughing gone. His glare suddenly grew ice-cold, much unlike the arousing grin he had just seconds ago. “They ganged up on me while I was all alone in the park, drawing in my sketchbook. They took my sketchbook...and they destroyed it. Just took it and ripped out all the pages, and tore them up to pieces right in front of me as they took turns beating me up, like they always did to me at school. They destroyed all my fucking work…”  
Gerard looked down remorsefully, his eyes full of tearful woe, as if mourning over the loss of his desecrated sketchbook. I really feel bad seeing him like this, knowing that I went through a pretty similar dilemma as Gerard in high school, getting harassed and beat up constantly. But something tells me that Gerard got it much worse than I did, and this is coming from someone that constantly got called a fag and was shoved into lockers on an almost daily basis…

  
“I’m really sorry,” I said. “That was a really shitty thing of them to do,”

  
“It fucking was!” Gerard shot his head up, his eyes brimming with pure hatred and rage. “They took the one and only thing I ever had that made me happy! I didn’t have shit growing up! Zip. Nada. Zilch. Nothing but me and my sketchbook! It was the same sketchbook my grandma gave to me before she died right in my arms! It was the one thing that made me express myself without being ridiculed...and it was taken away from me and destroyed right in front of my eyes, Frankie!”

  
I genuinely do feel bad for Gerard, knowing what kind of hell he must’ve been through growing up. But he’s honestly really fucking scaring me right now. The fact that he just seems to constantly be having all these dramatic mood swings is very unsettling; one minute he’s all laughs and smiles, the next he’s all somber and forlorn, then right after that he’s fuming with anger. I really hope this isn’t a sign of another oncoming psychotic episode. I’m really starting to doubt what Gerard said earlier about not getting upset talking about his checkered past. What’s worse is that I can’t do much about it. All I can do is sit there and watch him come undone. It’s like watching a trainwreck that’s about to happen right in front of you, and it’s honestly really fucking heartbreaking to see…

  
“I just couldn’t take it anymore…” Gerard continued, his anger starting to simmer down. “It was a living hell for me every single day dealing with those guys. Just that same shit on a different day. I got shoved into lockers, given swirlies, tripped in the hallways-you name it, I’ve had it done to me. But after what they fucking did to me that day...after they destroyed my sketchbook, my outlet for expressing all my anger and frustration...I’ve had enough…”

  
Gerard slowly turned his head back to me, with a wide and wicked smile smile slowly stretching ear to ear.

  
“See, I had this hunting knife that I stole at a pawn shop...and I had it on me that night in the park. So after those...teenagers took turns terrorizing me...I knew what I had to do. I took out my knife...and I just gave myself the best fucking birthday gift ever. I wish I could remember every single fleeting moment of it...oh I really wish I could, because now it’s all just a blur looking back at it almost ten years later, but I just remember it feeling so fucking good, like the best feeling you could ever have; better than any high, better than sex, better than anything else in the whole fucking world! It felt so good to hear them scream and cry! It felt so good to see them suffer and bleed! It felt so good to feel someone’s severed head wrapped around your arms while you slept at night! Hell, it even felt so good to taste their blood, too! It doesn’t even matter if I killed them! I didn’t care if I got caught! We all go to hell anyways, don’t we, Frankie?”

  
I swear to God that at this point, Gerard is only inches away from going all-out batshit hysterical. The way he just laughs and fantasizes over murdering someone-let alone three people-just really sets me off. What’s also really bizarre and unsettling is the fact that he pretty much killed these three people all over a sketchbook…  
“But you know what?” Gerard whispered, the bloodlust that was in his eyes just seconds ago now gone. “The only way I’m ever gonna feel anything like that again...is when I get sweet revenge when I find them...and hunt them down…”

  
“Who?” I asked, trying my hardest to not sound like I’m almost scared shitless.

  
Gerard sat there silently, his face again devoid of any emotion whatsoever, as if dreading to say the words that are on his mind. His eyes stayed focused on the wall, gazing over his artwork that’s in lieu of the mangled bodies.

  
“The two men...that k-killed...d-daddy...and-and mama…” he said shakily, his voice seemingly shifting to almost like that of a young child’s. “They hurt daddy and mama...and they...killed them!”

  
“Gerard,” I said, feeling half-tempted to hold Gerard tightly in my arms. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened to your parents. Those men deserve to pay for what they did,”

  
“They do, Frankie,” Gerard replied, the child-like voice gone. “They fucking do. They don’t deserve to even breathe the air in this ugly world...they deserve much worse than that. It’s such a disgrace that they’re even still alive after what they fucking did to me...and Mikey...and-and…”

  
Gerard shook his head and buried his face in his hands, shaking so much as if he’s trying to contain the demons inside of him. He began to rock back and forth frantically, just like he did last night in the midst of whatever nightmare was taking place in his mind.

  
Oh no...oh, dear fucking god...coming down here again was a grave mistake, wasn’t it?

  
“I can’t talk about it anymore, Frankie!” Gerard yelled, running his hands through his disheveled hair. “I just can’t take it anymore! I don’t want to do it again! I don’t want it happen again! I don’t wanna lose it all again and hurt you again, Frankie….I’m so sorry!”

  
“No, Gee! Please don’t be sorry!”

  
Without even noticing it immediately, I grabbed Gerard and pulled him into me, holding him tightly. I am shaking so much, as much as he is, and for the life of me, I don’t know why I am so close to crying now…

  
I want him to stop.

  
I want him be calm.

  
I want him to be okay!

  
“It’s okay, Gerard. Don’t speak anymore,” I said. “It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay!”

  
Gerard buried his face into my jacket again, still shaking helplessly. I can’t tell if he’s hyperventilating or if he’s crying. Whatever it may be, I’m not ever gonna let him go. I’m gonna stay down here as long as he wants me to. I don’t care if I get caught by Mikey or Ray. Gerard needs me, and goddamnit, I want him to be okay! I want him to be o-fucking-kay!

  
“You...you promise, Frankie?” Gerard asked, his voice muffled in my jacket.

  
“Yes, Gee...I promise,”

  
I laid myself down on the couch, taking Gerard with me. He laid right down on top of me, still holding on to me for his dear life with his arms wrapped around my neck. He rested his head right over my chest and shut his eyes, looking so peaceful, much unlike how he was just minutes ago. I could just let Gerard fall asleep on me right now. I wouldn’t mind at all. I’d fall asleep too, my arms still wrapped around him. He’s my friend, and I’m very likely the first friend he’s made in a long time...or maybe just ever. Whatever it may truly be, I wanna stay with him all night. He’s still so warm…

  
And still so fucking beautiful…

  
“I’m sorry if I scared you, Frankie,” Gerard whispered, his eyes gazing up at me. “I’m sorry if you think I’m some kind of fucked up freak…”

  
“I’m not scared of you, Gerard. I don’t think you’re a fucked up freak either. You have every right to be angry. Those men deserve to pay for what they’ve done to you and your family,”

  
Gerard stayed silent, shutting his eyes again. He smiled a little, then moments later, opened them back up.

  
“Thank you, Frankie,” he whispered. “Thank you for understanding. Thank you for staying here with me. Thank you for saving me from losing myself. Thank you...for everything, Frankie,”

  
“You’re welcome...Gee,” I said, smiling. I just feel so warm inside and out. He feels so warm…

  
“You know what, Frankie?” Gerard lifted his head off my chest, gazing at me once again, the light behind his eyes radiating. “You’ve got really pretty eyes. You know that, right?”

  
“You think so?” I said, laughing he would bring up something so random yet so sweet at the same time.

  
“Yeah, just thought I’d say that…” he smiled, making butterflies flutter in my stomach.

  
“You do too, Ger-”

  
And suddenly, at that fleeting moment as I spoke, was when Gerard shut his eyes, leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me softly…

 


	8. Helena

 

I swear, I did not expect Gerard to kiss me. It all just happened without warning. His lips are still pressed against mine, his eyes closed with his arms still wrapped around my neck...and here I am, looking like a dunce with my eyes wide open, unsure what to do. It's been so long since I last kissed someone, let alone a man…

  
But he's still, once again, so warm. I know that’s probably the billionth time I’ve said that, but it’s true! He just looks so happy and peaceful, wrapped in my arms, and that's the way I want him to be. He is still so beautiful. He may look like a disaster with his unkempt black hair, saggy and dirty clothes, and pale and bruised skin, but that doesn’t matter. He’s a beautiful disaster, and he’s kissing me right now.

  
Beauty is kissing me right on the lips.

  
I closed my eyes and put my hands on Gerard’s face, running them through his hair. My lips caressed his, the taste of nicotine strong. His lips are slimy, yet they still feel so good, but I just can't seem to say how exactly. Is it because he's a good kisser? I doubt that’s the reason why. There's no doubt in my mind that I may as well be the first person he's ever kissed. I’ll be damned if I’m not. I can tell he’s new to this whole thing by how stiff he is, his body slightly shaking. But whether I’m not his first kiss, it doesn’t matter; it doesn’t matter how good or bad of a kisser the person is, but the person who’s kissing you...and the person I’m kissing is a mess inside and out, but not just a mess, but a beautiful mess.

  
Our lips parted and we stared at each other straight in the eye in silence. I honestly don’t know how much time passed when we kissed. Maybe two minutes...no, four. Five. Six? Maybe more than that...

  
“Oh my god…” Gerard’s hazel eyes widened, his trembling mouth slightly ajar.

“Frankie...what did we just do?”

  
“Gee,” I whispered, completely shaken after what just happened. “We just kissed…”

  
“Well, yeah. I know we did, but…”

  
“But, what?”

  
Gerard shook his head as he sat up, looking so embarrassed after what he just did to me unexpectedly.

  
“Frankie…I don’t know why I did that...I just had to. I’m sorry,”

  
“No, it’s okay,” I replied. “But...why?”

  
“I told you, I don’t know why!” Gerard exclaimed, clearly exasperated. “It just happened, Frankie, okay? What more do you want me to say?”

  
“You have no clue?” I asked, sitting up next to Gerard. “Things happen for a reason, you know. Everything does,”

  
Gerard sighed, running a frustrated and shaking hand through his hair. I swear, I can see him blushing, his cheeks turning a flushed red, contrasting against his snow white pale skin.

  
“I really don’t know how to say it, Frankie...it’s just that while we were talking earlier, I started to have more flashbacks...about daddy...and-and mama...as well as some other...th-things that happened to me,” he stuttered, his face forlorn. “and you were holding me while I was starting to lose it, and I was so scared because...I didn’t wanna hurt you again, like I did last time. But you held me, and as you did...the flashbacks stopped. I wasn’t freaking out anymore. You helped me calm down,”

  
“I know I did, Gerard. I was trying to help you,”

  
“I know, Frankie. I know you were...and you did,” Gerard smiled a little. “I don’t want this to sound creepy, but...it felt so good to be held like that. It felt so relieving, you know? I don’t think anyone’s ever held me like that for so long, and I think that’s why I just did what I did; because you have done so much for me. You’ve changed me. You were there when everyone else left me to rot away...and because of all that, you just mean so much to me now, and I haven’t had anyone like that in my life for such a long time...”

  
“You know what, Gerard?” I leaned in closer to him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. “You needed someone to hold you like that. Sometimes that’s all we need when we’re in a bad place in our lives. A friend. Someone to talk to. Someone that’ll listen. Someone that cares…,”

  
The smile on Gerard’s face grew wider, the butterflies in my stomach fluttering all over inside of me. I’ll be so shocked if I’m not blushing as much as he is right now…

  
“Thank you, Frankie…” Gerard rested his head on my shoulder, still smiling. “Thank you so much. Thank you for being that someone,”

  
“You’re welcome, Gee,” I whispered. I rested my head against Gerard’s, my whole body so warm. I shut my eyes, my mind replaying the moment where we kissed. I never thought that I’d be kissing the man that started out as a mystery downstairs. But it happened anyway...and right now, I couldn’t ask for a better, more beautiful person to be with. Gerard is my friend. But he’s a very special friend. In fact, the more I think about it, he may just be more than that...but just what, exactly?

  
I opened my eyes back up and glanced around the room, which is something my ADD mind likes to do a lot. Something caught my eye-a notebook, with the word “lyrics” written on it in black marker.

  
Gerard writes music? That is just…fucking awesome! I can only imagine that what he’s written is as good as what he draws and paints.

  
“Hey, Gee,” I said, pointing to the book. “You write lyrics?”

  
“Oh, yeah,” Gerard sat up, reaching and grabbing it off the floor. “I do it in my spare time if I’m not in the mood to draw or paint,”

  
“That’s cool. Can I see?”

  
“Sure, if you want,” Gerard handed the notebook over to me. I opened it up as Gerard pulled out a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. “You mind if I smoke?”

  
“Go ahead, I don’t mind,” I said, flipping through the pages. My eyes skimmed over some songs, each one of them looking as beautifully written as the next. Every single one had a name to go along with them. I read over some of the titles:

“Skylines and Turnstiles”, “The Ghost of You”, “Thank You For The Venom”...

  
But on the very last page, there’s a song that looks unfinished. It doesn’t even have a title, but somehow, it really stands out to me...why, though?

  
Gerard glanced over at me as he lit his cigarette, taking a long drag from it, then exhaling the smoke. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them back up, focused on his untitled, unfinished work in the book.

  
“So long to all my friends, everyone of them met tragic ends….” he sang melodically, reading the lyrics.

  
Oh my god...Gerard sings too? His voice is just...oh my god…

  
“With every passing day,” he continued, his voice not faltering one bit. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say, that I miss them all tonight. And if they only knew what I would say…”

  
That’s all the unfinished song consisted of. Just that one little paragraph...and he sang it perfectly.

  
Good lord...Gerard has the voice of an angel! It’s so fucking beautiful...just like him, of course.

  
I am at a loss of words right now. His singing has left me speechless. It swept me right off my feet. It’s so good that it kinda makes me jealous of him. Hell, he sings better than I ever can in the shower!

  
“G-gerard…” I stuttered. “Oh my god…”

  
“What?” Gerard said, his face holding an expression of concern. “What’s wrong, Frankie?”

  
“Nothing…” I shook my head, still shaken from what my ears have been blessed with just seconds ago. “Gee...you’re such a good singer!”

  
“Really?” Gerard’s eyes lit up. “You mean it?”

  
“Fuck yes, I mean it! You’re a good writer too! You are seriously so talented, you know that, right?”

  
It’s true. Gerard is a textbook example of an artistic genius. He’s so much of one, it’s almost intimidating. I swear, if Gerard weren’t so...well, “messed up”, I have a feeling he would be famous, like he’d be a well-known comic book artist or a lead singer in a rock band (or hell, even both of those things). Unfortunately, I guess that’s another thing that’s been robbed of him, no thanks to his tragic and heartbreaking backstory; he had no chance at a bright future.

  
Gerard didn’t answer my question. He just kinda smiled nervously, looking down at his feet as he continued to smoke his cigarette.

  
“You’re not saying that just to flatter me, are you?” he asked, taking another drag from his cancer stick.

  
“Of course not, Gee. I really, really mean it!” I picked up Gerard’s notebook, skimming through the pages again, adoring his literary works. “Seriously, how did you become so...you know, good at all this stuff anyway?”

  
I don’t think Gerard liked me asking that. The look on his face grew sullen, his eyes still focused the ground, his hazel eyes lightless and forlorn.

  
“Frankie…” he said, his sad eyes glancing up at me.

  
“Oh, Gee...I’m sorry,” I replied, wanting to slap myself for upsetting Gerard again. “I didn’t mean to-”

  
“The person that taught me all that...,” Gerard interrupted, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. “...was my grandmother, Elena…”

  
“Oh...really?”

  
“Yes, Frankie. She was my teacher…” Gerard smiled a little despite the sorrow clearly in his voice, looking down at his folded hands. “She’s the one that taught me the beauty of art. She was also a friend…a very close one, too. In fact, she was probably one of the only ones I ever had…”

  
Was? I can sadly guess that based on Gerard constantly referring to her in past tense that she’s no longer alive…

  
Wait a minute...his grandma? He mentioned her earlier, didn’t he? He mentioned that she gave him a sketchbook before she passed away in his arms, only to have that book destroyed by those three bullies from school, which made him snap and kill them.

  
This woman must’ve held a really special place in Gerard’s heart; a broken heart that’s slowly being mended back together.

  
“I’m really sorry, Gee. It sounds like she was a very nice lady,” I said, paying my respects to Gerard’s late grandmother.

  
“Oh, she was. You woulda loved her, Frankie. She taught me so much. She was the only one that was there for me after what happened to daddy and mama…”

  
Gerard looked back down at his folded hands, his eyes full of grief-stricken agony, morning over the loss of his grandmother, his teacher, and close friend.

  
“She fought tooth and nail to be able to have me visit her when I was in foster care. Lucky for me, I was able to see her after she pulled a few strings with them. But for Mikey, he sadly wasn't too lucky…”

  
“Why not?” I asked.

  
“I don't know, Frankie,” Gerard shrugged. ”The foster system is really fucked up, it's almost ludicrous,”

  
“Sounds like it,”

  
“Yeah...but anyway, after all that trouble, I was able to go visit my grandma at her house once a week. They were honestly the best days of my life. She saw that I liked to finger paint and draw a lot, so...she thought it was only appropriate to teach me how to draw and paint good over the years. She used to be an art teacher at a high school before she had to retire, so...I guess she really wanted to pass down her artistic talents to me,”

  
“That's nice. She also taught you how to sing and write too, right?”

  
“Of course,” Gerard nodded. “When she was really young, like high school age, she was in a lot of school plays and musicals. She was also a part of the school choir. So of course, singing was something she was eager to teach me, since she saw I liked singing along with the music playing from her record player or her radio, a lot of oldies stuff. I remember when I was in elementary school, there was this production of Peter Pan going on there, and I guess for the hell of it, I decided to try it out...and I pretty much got the lead role, because I think my music teacher loved my voice when she heard me sing...and of course, my grandma was jumping with joy when she got the news, so that made her even more determined to teach me to sing,”

  
Little Gerard Way? In a Peter Pan play? I may sound like a soccer mom for saying this, but...that honestly sounds so adorable, aside from it also sounding freaking hilarious, picturing a young Gee in green tights, singing songs about not wanting to grow up.

  
“My God, Frankie…” Gerard chuckled, looking up at me. “You shoulda seen what she made for me to wear for the play...she made me this outfit...and it was green tights. She was just so thrilled about it, it was almost embarrassing...but you know what? She was just really happy for me. I made her proud,”

  
“I bet you did, Gee. How did the writing come in?” I asked.

  
“The writing kinda came to me naturally. As I grew older, I began to read more, usually comic books and horror novels. I also started to listen to a lot of music, like punk rock. Around the time I started high school, I took up writing. I wrote a lot of short stories and song lyrics, and I would ask my grandma for constructive criticism. She’d give me some tips for improving my work and always encouraged me to get some of my stories published in magazines, which I actually managed to do a couple times,”

  
“That's really cool, Gerard. I honestly always hated reading, but I remember I loved writing my own work,”

  
“What did you write?” Gerard asked.

  
“Mostly lyrics. I told you I've always wanted to be in a band, right?”

  
“Yeah, you did. You told me you wanted to be a guitarist, right?”

  
“Yeah, that and maybe do backup vocals,”

  
“That's awesome, Frankie!” Gerard said, elation in his voice. “I really gotta hear you play sometime, you know?”

  
“Sure,” I smiled nervously. I hope he thinks I don't suck too bad when I do. I'm not one to play in front of others. I know I have enough experience sound at least passable, but I'm not a pro either, I don't think. Not like Ray Toro is…

  
“So, anyway…” Gerard continued, once again looking back down at his folded hands. “you can only imagine how much Elena meant to me. She was there for me all throughout the years, all the way up to my junior year in high school, over Christmas break…”

  
The crestfallen, grieving look on Gerard's face returned, tears welling up in his eyes.

  
“Her health had been deteriorating over the years, since she was so old, of course. But it wasn’t until around the start of my sophomore year when we found out she had stage four lung cancer...which doesn't make sense. She never smoked!”

  
“I'm really sorry, Gerard,” I said, putting a consoling hand on his shoulder. “You were there for her, right?”

  
“Of course I was, Frankie. She was there for me when I was little, so the best I could do was return the favor. Over a period of time, the illness grew worse despite treatment, so she had no choice but to be put in a nursing home, since she couldn't take care of herself anymore. I visited her there as much as I possibly could, and I even helped take care of her with some things, like bathing and dressing her, which of course both her and the nurses really appreciated…”

  
“You really did all that for her, Gee?”

  
“Yeah, I sure did,”

  
“Wow…” I said, admiring Gerard for the amount of love and care he had towards his grandma. “Kudos to you, man. I honestly can't even picture myself doing stuff like that for my grandparents,”

  
It's true, as selfish as it sounds. It's not that I hated my grandparents or anything, I didn't at all. I just wasn't as close to them as Gerard was to his grandma. Also, I think I'd puke if I had to bathe them, amongst other personal things. People in the nursing field must have really strong stomachs and balls of steel to be willing to be do that kind of stuff for a bunch of old people…

  
“It's okay, Frankie,” Gerard laughed. “I understand what you mean. I wouldn't do it for anyone else but her. Like I said before, she took care of me growing up, so it was only fair to do the same for her before she…”

  
All the emotion in Gerard's face vanished, his eyes growing wide as he sat there quietly. He shut them, breathing slowly as he planted his face into his hands, mourning in silence. Heartbroken seeing him like this, I reached into my back pocket to pull out a handkerchief I keep on me, for some reason I don't even know, maybe just for when I need it, like now. I handed the handkerchief to Gerard, who snatched it right from my hands and dabbed at his tearful eyes with it.

  
“It was Christmas when she died in the hospital,” he said, sniffling. “The doctors told her she wouldn't have long to live, and that nothing was working to fight the cancer, not even the chemo was helping much. It was just that bad. She was suffering so much, it was hard to watch her rot away like that…”

  
“I don't blame you. Did she at least...you know, die peacefully?”

  
“She did, Frankie. I remember she gave me a sketchbook as my Christmas present. She wanted me to keep pursuing drawing, and all that other stuff, and I of course told her I will, for her. She was in so much pain in her final moments, I held on to her for my dear life. I cried so much that night. I really didn't want her to go. She was all I had. She was what made me strong, Frankie. All the kids at school, they picked on me so much, and there were some days I'd come home crying because I couldn’t take it anymore...and she was always there for me, she always held me, just like I held her on that Christmas night in the hospital…”

  
By this point, Gerard was hysterically in tears, despite his efforts to shed them away with my handkerchief. I sat there silently as he mourned and cried, feeling my soul being ripped apart.

  
“Gerard…,” I said. “I'm so so-”

  
“She told me I have to be stronger,” he interrupted, his voice choked and shaking. “She-she told me I have to be stronger when she's gone. She told me I must be stronger when she's no longer there, Frankie...and that's when she died, right in my arms…”

  
Unable to bear seeing Gerard hurting so much over his loss, I took him into my arms and held him once again, letting him weep on me. Gerard wrapped his arms around me, his sobs subdued to sniffles muffled by my jacket. I shut my eyes as I held him, stroking his tangled hair.

  
“I'm so sorry, Gerard,” I whispered. “I know I've already said it a million times before, but I really mean it. I just can't imagine losing someone so close to me like that,”

  
“It's hard, Frankie,” Gerard looked up at me, his crying hazel eyes bloodshot from the tears. “It's so hard when someone like that leaves you. You just never truly know what you have until it's gone. I just miss her so much, Frankie. I miss Elena…”  
Gerard let go of me, his head hung down, his hair obscuring his mourning, tearful eyes.

  
“I really fucking miss her so much…,” he said, drying his eyes with my handkerchief. “I miss her so much that I wrote a song dedicated to her, in memory of her. I did it as a way to cope with losing her,”

  
“Really?” My eyes lit up. “What's it called?”

  
“It's called Helena. It's one of the songs in that lyric notebook,”

  
I flipped through the pages of the book, finding the song with it’s and title written in black pen.

  
“Long ago…” Gerard sang lowly as my eyes scanned over the lyrics. “Just like the hearse you died to get in again. We are so far from you…wait-” he suddenly stopped. “Frankie...you don’t mind if I sing, do you?”

  
“Of course not!” I smiled. “I don’t mind at all. I love hearing you sing!”

  
“Oh...alright, then…”

Burning on just like a match you strike to incinerate  
The lives of everyone you know  
And what's the worst you take (worst you take)  
From every heart you break (heart you break)  
And like the blade you stain (blade you stain)  
Well, I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst that I can say?  
Things are better if I stay  
So long and goodnight  
So long and goodnight

Came a time  
When every star fall brought you to tears again  
We are the very hurt you sold

And what's the worst you take (worst you take)  
From every heart you break (heart you break)  
And like the blade you stain (blade you stain)  
Well, I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst that I can say?  
Things are better if I stay  
So long and goodnight  
So long and goodnight

And if you carry on this way  
Things are better if I stay  
So long and goodnight  
So long and goodnight

Can you hear me?  
Are you near me?  
Can we pretend  
To leave and then  
We'll meet again  
When both our cars collide.

What's the worst that I can say?  
Things are better if I stay  
So long and goodnight  
So long and goodnight

And if you carry on this way  
Things are better if I stay  
So long and goodnight  
So long and goodnight

“Beautiful!” I exclaimed, still blown away and mesmerized by the song, as well as the utterly phenomenal talent Gerard possesses. “Absolutely amazing, man!”

  
“You think so?” Gerard asked, smiling shyly, cheeks blushing a little. “I wrote it a long time ago, when I was still in high school. It could use some touching up…”

  
“Nah, man. I like it the way it is, to be honest,” I said truthfully. I wouldn’t change it at all. It’s just that fucking good.

  
“You sure?”

  
“Yeah, I’m positive. I think your grandma would be so proud of you, seeing that you’re such a good artist, you know?”

  
The shy smile on Gerard’s face grew wider, his face flushed with flattery.

  
“You know what?” he said. “I think you’re right. Thank you, Frankie…”

  
“You’re welcome, Gee,” I smiled. I glanced back down at the notebook in my hands, suddenly remembering the untitled song I read earlier that Gerard also sang. “Hey, I got a question,”

  
“What’s that?”

  
“That other song you wrote…” I flipped through the pages, soon finding it and skimming over the one little paragraph on the sheet of paper. “That other one you sang to me. What’s that one about?”

  
“Oh…” Gerard muttered, looking down. “I never finished that one yet. I want to, though,”

  
“I know,” I replied. “But I’m just kinda curious...what do you mean by ‘so long to all my friends?’”

  
“Oh, that?” Gerard said glumly, still glancing down at the floor. “I wrote that part in dedication to all the people I held close to me...like, my grandma Elena...and...daddy and mama…”

  
Goddamn it. Now I feel like an idiot for asking. Not only because it’s obvious what the line’s about, but because I once again made Gerard sad and-

  
“I wrote that part of the song in memory of them. I still miss them all. They all died right in front of me, and that’s what made it so tragic, you know?”

  
“I see what you mean,” I sighed remorsefully. “I’m sorry for asking, I should’ve known that-”

  
“No, Frankie. It’s okay,” Gerard put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, smiling a little. “You don’t have to apologize,”

  
“Really? Are you sure?”

  
“Positive. It’s not your fault. I actually really like that you’re so into my art. I really appreciate it. I like how you’re so intrigued by it. I like how you’re so curious about it, you know what I’m saying?”

  
“Oh, really?” My eyes lit up. “Well, it’s true. You’re just such a good artist. You paint and draw good, you write good, and you’re especially really good at singing. I just don’t wanna, like, bring up something that might upset you, you know?”

  
“Frankie…” Gerard groaned. “Don’t worry about it. I know you don’t mean to do that to me. I really hate having to see you police yourself how you talk to me. You can ask me anything, or at least just about anything, that is. I really wanna be able to move on. It’s hard, but I gotta do it anyway, somehow. Besides, you opened up to me about what happened with you and your parents, and I felt so bad for asking in the first place, but you wanted to tell me. You told me you were healing. You said it was gonna hurt, but in the end, it’ll feel all better. Don’t you remember that?”

  
I do remember that. I opened up to Gerard that night. I spilled my whole soul out to him. I cried. I screamed. I felt the pain. I remember every second of it, from start to finish. I let it all go, and in the end, it felt great. Now, Gerard wants to do the same. He wants to be healed from the scars from his past. He wants to stop hurting.

  
But the thing is, I know that he’s been hurting more than I have. He has much more scars compared to me. What I had were papercuts compared to the wounds he’s endured throughout his life. Therefore, it’s gonna be much hardejhr for him than it was for me…

  
“So, you know what, Frankie?” Gerard said suddenly. “Just ask me anything, and I’ll be happy to answer as best as I can, and if I get upset, it’s okay. It’s just me hurting. It’s just me trying to fight it. No one ever said hurting was gonna be painless, right? No one ever said healing was gonna be easy, Frankie...but…”

  
“But what?” I asked.

  
Gerard bit his lip, looking down at his feet nervously. He looked back up at me, his hard, hazel-eyed stare piercing straight through my soul.

  
“But...if I start to get violent, like I did that one time. If I ever, ever try to do what I did to you that one day, God forbid I do, then run. Run for your fucking life...and never look back. Never come back down here again. Just forget about me, okay?”

  
“But Gerard,” I refuted, cringing at the thought of having to do such a thing to Gerard, despite how mentally unstable and messed up he is. “I don’t wanna do that to you. I don’t wanna abandon you. I wanna help you-”

  
“No, Frankie!” Gerard exclaimed, clamping his shaking hands on my shoulders, making me jump a little. “Listen to me. I know I’m not well. I’m fucked up. I have hurt people before. I’ve put people in the hospital. I made people spend the rest of their lives wheelchair-bound, eating their meals through a fucking straw. I’ve killed people before, and I never, ever wanna do that to you! Besides, if I ever let myself do such a thing to you, I don’t deserve someone so precious like you, do I? It would be pathetic for me to push away someone who means so much to me like that. I should have just cut myself off from you entirely after what happened last night, but...I’m giving myself one last chance, as crazy as it sounds. And if I fuck up again, then it’s all over. Do you understand, Frankie?”

  
I really don’t know what to say. I can’t help but think he’s right. He’s hurt too many people, and he never wants my name to be added to that list. He’s done it to me before, and he genuinely never wants to let it happen again. Do I really mean that much to him? Because now I’m just starting to realize that he does mean a lot to me, and I think the worst I could ever do is leave him behind, just like Mikey has done…but then again, based off what he’s told me, as well as what I’ve seen firsthand, Gerard is a very sick, very unpredictable person-

  
“Do you understand me?” Gerard asked again, his grip on my shoulders tightening and voice rising. “Please, tell me you do,”

  
“Y-yes,” I stuttered. “I do,”

  
“Do you swear, you’ll do as I say? Do you swear you’ll run if I ever try to hurt you again?”

  
“Yes…” I said weakly. “I swear…”

  
Gerard stood there in silence, his hands letting go of me, but not his stare.  
“Good,” he said flatly.

  
We sat there in awkward silence. The silence is so profound that I swear you can hear a pin drop. Gerard looked away from me, back down at his notebook, flipping over to the page of his unfinished song with no title.

  
“You know, Frankie…” he said, breaking the silence. “I really wanna finish this song one day. I just don’t know how, but...I really want it to be meaningful. I want this one to be one of the best I’ve written,”

  
“I believe you can finish it,” I replied, reading over his work again. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. You’re already off to a good start with it,”

  
“Really? You think so?”

  
“Of course. It’s got a lot of potential. You just gotta stick to it, and write your ideas down when something good comes to mind. That’s what I’d do when I’m trying to think of ideas for a song I wanna write,”

  
“I know,” Gerard nodded. “Maybe I gotta wait for something to happen. Something big, you know? Something that’ll inspire me. That way I’ll know what to do with my work, which direction to go with it,”

  
“Yeah, you could look at it like that. You just never know, man. I’m sure something will come to mind. Besides, you’re a very creative and intelligent person,”  
“Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard smiled. “I’m glad you think so,”

  
“Oh, Gee...I don’t think so. I know you are! I’m stating facts here,”

  
“C’mon, don’t kiss my ass,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. “There are people out there better than me,”

  
“Well...you’re the best I’ve ever seen, if that counts,”

  
“If you say so,”

  
I looked around the room, my eyes studying some of Gerard’s paintings. Off in the corner, I noticed an art easel and canvas, with a painting on it that looks finished, or at least just about. It displays a lone dead black tree in the middle of a field, the whole scenery painted in neutral colors like black, white, and gray. Despite the lack of color the artwork has, it isn’t short of being as gorgeous and breathtaking as the rest of Gerard’s work adorning the room.

  
“Hey, Gee,” I said, pointing to the canvas. “What’s up with that painting over there? You still working on it, or…?”

  
“Oh, that one?” Gerard replied, taking notice of the painting I’m referring to. “I’m almost finished with it. Haven’t had the time to do so. But yeah, that’s what I’m working on right now,”

  
“Oh, alright. It’s beautiful,”

  
“Hey,” Gerard turned his head to me, warm smile on his face and hazel eyes radiant. “You’re beautiful, Frankie…”

  
Unable to contain myself, I looked down shyly, blushing as a smile stretched across my face. Those three words he just said to me hit me like a freight train, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter like crazy. I probably look like such a dill weed, being all hot and bothered right now, but I don’t really care.

  
“You know, when I first saw you that night you came down here, I just thought you were the most beautiful thing ever, you know?” Gerard scooched closer to me, his hand lightly stroking my cheek. I glanced up at him, my eyes unable to look away from his, the blushing smile plastered on my face. “Better and more beautiful than anything I can possibly ever paint,”

  
“R-really?” I said, barely able to speak.

  
“Yeah. I know it sounds cheesy, but it’s true. That’s literally the first thing that came to my mind when I saw you, and I was just so touched that you wanted me to hang out with you. I thought for a second I was dreaming, but of course...I wasn’t,”  
“Gee,” I laughed, my cheeks burning from how much I must be blushing right now. “Now you’re the one that’s kissing my ass!”

  
“But still, Frankie. It’s true, you know…”

  
Gerard shut his eyes, leaning forward. Our faces touched, our lips just inches away from each other. I sat there with my eyes closed, feeling Gerard’s warmth consume me. He’s just so close to kissing me, but…

  
“Gerard,” I whispered, curious about something. “I got a question…”

  
“Yes?”

  
“Am I...the first person you’ve kissed?” I slowly wrapped my arms around him.

  
“Well...the first guy I’ve ever kissed,” Gerard said. “but not the first person,”

  
“Oh…” I reached up to the back of his head and lightly stroked his hair. “What’s it like kissing a girl?”

  
“Honestly...nothing like this. Doesn’t come close at all…”

  
“Hmm...I see,”

  
“But you know what, Frankie? You’re not only the first guy I’ve kissed...but you’re the first person I kissed where I really felt it...if you know what I mean,”

  
“Oh, really? You’re not just saying that to flatter me, are you?”

  
“Of course not, Frank-”

  
I cut Gerard off, tightening my embrace around him as my lips collided with his. I caressed him, my whole body indulging in just how fucking good it feels being up against his. His breaths grew heavier as he lightly moaned, his lips kissing mine. I leaned forward, pinning him down to the couch.

  
“Frankie…” Gerard moaned, his voice muffled by my lips. “You’re...beautiful…”

  
“I know, Gee,” I whispered, biting his lower lip as I continued to stroke his head. “So are you…”

 


	9. To The End

“Frankie, has anyone told you you’re a very good kisser?” Gerard smirked, gazing up at me in awe as we cuddled together on his couch.

  
“I dunno,” I laughed, my fingers twirling his tousled black hair. “Never really got a whole lotta action with anyone, to be honest,”

  
“Not even in high school?”

  
“Nope, not even there,” I shook my head. “It was kinda hard for me to, since I was always the poor gay loser with hardcore conservative parents and a long list of kids that bullied me,”

  
“Well, those kids are assholes, Frankie. You know that,”

  
“Of course I do, Gee,” I laid my head down on his chest, hearing the beat of his heart that’s still racing from what we both just did. We kissed. Again.

  
Actually, no. We did more than just that. We kissed multiple times. We made out. Again. No tongue, though. Just kissing each other’s lips (and some biting, which I think Gerard really liked. Even though I may not have kissed that many people, especially guys, considering all the circumstances I was under, I do know that biting their lower lip does the trick).

  
And, as corny and cliche as it may sound, it felt so good, it’s almost beyond description. I didn’t even think before deciding to kiss him. It just happened. It was like there was something inside me just begging me to do it, and it all just took over me. I just couldn’t resist the urge to do so. I just had to kiss Gerard. He’s just that fucking beautiful. I know I use that word a lot, but it’s true. Hell, I can write a whole novel about what makes Gerard Way so astonishing to the naked human eye (at least, in my eyes. I don’t think some shut-in that hasn’t showered in centuries is gonna exactly be up everyone’s alley, in terms of looks). It even isn’t just his appearance that is so breathtaking, it’s everything about him (or at least just about everything). It’s the way he never fails to make me laugh, even when I’m in the shittiest mood. It’s the way he smiles and looks at me with his iridescent hazel eyes. It’s the way he’s so freaking talented, he makes a child prodigy in high honors at school look like a pushover. It’s the way he’s such a strange case, so quirky yet so cute at the same time and...

  
A loud growl emerged from my stomach, obviously indicating that it’s time to get something to eat.

  
“Hmm, someone’s hungry,” Gerard sang, his hand stroking my head that’s still resting on his chest. “I would make us something to eat, but there isn’t really much down here…”

  
“That’s alright,” I sat up. “I’ll find something upstairs. I coulda sworn I saw a pack of pizza rolls in the freezer,”

  
“Alrighty then, Frankie. That’ll do. We can use the microwave oven down here to make them,”

  
I got up from the couch and made my way upstairs, only to be greeted by a wide-eyed Mikey sitting at the kitchen table with a worried, “what in the hell were you thinking of going down there after what happened last night” kind of look on his face. I walked right past him, pretending not to notice.

  
“Frank!” he hissed. “Just what in the hell are you-”

  
“Relax, Mikey,” I said, grabbing the pack of pizza rolls from the freezer and making my way back downstairs. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing,”

The rest of the night consisted of me and Gerard cuddling on the couch, eating pizza rolls and watching a series of horror movies on DVD. Right now it’s Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” that’s playing. We laid together on the couch, our bodies entwined in blankets, my head laying on Gerard’s lap. I just can’t think of a better way to end my night off from work. Me and Gerard together in his basement, eating pizza rolls and watching horror movies. It’s just perfect, like a lonely hormonal teenager’s fantasty (even though ironically I’m 23). I want to savor every single moment of this night, knowing that I have a six day work streak ahead of me, which I’m gonna dread. It’s not because I hate my job, of course not. I like it there a lot. Besides, I need the money...badly. Sooner or later Ray’s gonna ask me to cough up some money to pay for rent. I’m dreading work because that obviously means I don’t get to spend as much time with Gerard. It also means he has to painstakingly wait down in that dark basement for me to come home to him.

  
“Frankie,” Gerard said, grabbing a pizza roll off the plate. “You work tomorrow?”

  
“Yeah, I am,” I sat up. “I’m working all week, actually,”

  
“Really?” Gerard frowned. “Even this weekend?”

  
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Even this weekend. My next day off isn’t until Sunday,”

  
“Oh, alright…” Gerard hung his head down, that dreadfully familiar disappointment and discontent clear in his eyes.

  
It really hurts to see Gerard so bummed out, knowing that he’ll be all alone while I’m away at work. I know I gotta do what I gotta do. A job’s a job, we gotta go to it to make a living whether we like it or not, but still. It wouldn’t be so bad if Gerard didn’t always confine himself to this dark place downstairs in his own little world, away from everyone else. As different and intriguing as his world may be, it’s definitely a very lonely place, even terrifying at times, knowing what he must see and hear what others can’t….and that’s likely just one of the many reasons why he wants me to stay down here with him.

  
“I’m sorry, Gerard,” I said. “I promise I’ll come down here when I get off work. I don’t care if Mikey or Ray give me a hard time. It’s not like they’re gonna kick me out or anything,”

  
At least, I hope not.

  
“I know you’ll come down here, Frankie,” Gerard looked up. “I know you will. I just hate that you gotta sneak down here all the time because of those guys. I really wish they didn’t give you hell for it,”

  
“I know. When I went upstairs earlier, your little brother clearly wasn’t happy that I came back down here, to be honest…”

  
“What did he tell you?”

  
“Not much. He just asked me what the hell I was doing. It’s because the night before we had that little conversation...after what happened…”

  
“Oh,” Gerard muttered. I assume he knows what I’m talking about. “So I guess he’s just mad because you went against his word pretty much,”

  
“Yeah, I guess so. I told him to chill out, though. I told him I know what I’m doing.”

  
“W-wait,” Gerard stuttered, exchanging me a worried look. “You didn’t tell him that we were...kissing, were you?”

  
“No, of course not,” I laughed, blushing a little. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything like that,”

  
“Oh, okay,” he sighed, relieved. “Good. I don’t think he needs to know we’ve been doing that. It would be kinda awkward if he did…”

  
“Yeah, it would,”

  
“I just wish that…” Gerard’s voice trailed off, his voice distant and full of discomfort.

  
“You wish what?” I asked.

  
“I just wish he wasn’t so afraid of me...I don’t want him to be scared of me and think I’m some kind of monster...but it’s kinda hard for him not to, considering he knows what I’ve done. I just wish he could understand. I think he hates me…”

  
“Gerard, your little brother doesn’t hate you,” I said reassuringly. “He’s just kinda...a little worried, that’s all,”

  
Not that I really blame Mikey, though. Based off his past experience with Gerard in the mental institution, as well as other things like the time Gerard had his psychotic episode last night, Mikey kinda has a reason to be afraid. He just needs to lighten up a bit, and the same goes for Ray. I wanna help Gerard, as risky and foolish as it may sound. I still refuse to believe he’s beyond help. He’s a much different person now than we was two nights ago. If only Mikey and Ray could see that for themselves and not think I’m some kinda delusional moron with a deathwish…

  
“I guess so, Frankie,” Gerard nodded. “I kinda miss Mikey. I miss Ray too, and I guess Bob as well,”

  
“I bet you do, Gee,” I replied, suddenly kinda curious. “How long have you lived down here, anyway? When was the last time you were upstairs?”

  
“It’s been about three years, I think...”

  
Three years? Three whole fucking years Gerard hasn’t stepped outta this basement? Three whole years he hasn’t seen Mikey, Ray, or Bob, or even talked to them? Holy shit...I knew it was a long time Gerard has been down here, but I didn’t think it would be that long.

  
“Wow,” I said, still stunned by such a large number of days. “That’s a long time…”

  
Gerard said nothing. He just stared at the t.v screen, the movie coming to a close with the credits rolling.

  
“Well,” I continued, thinking now it wouldn't hurt to ask. At least, I hope not. “Why don’t you come upstairs, say hi to everyone? I’m sure they all miss you. Ray isn’t home yet, he’s outta town right now, but Mikey and Bob-”

  
“No,” Gerard said remorsefully, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can…”

  
“Why? It’s just those two people, I swear,” I said, remembering Gerard’s last made up excuse when he declined to join the party upstairs that one night. “You don’t even have to stay up there or anything. Just go upstairs and hang out for a bit, that’s all,”

  
“Frankie, don’t you know?” Gerard’s voice rose, his tone coldly serious. “I’m a convicted killer. I escaped from a mental institution. A fucking mental institution. I can’t go up there,”

  
“Gerard, it’s not like I’m asking you to step outside in the public eye. It’s just upstairs in the same house. It’s just Mikey and Bob, that’s all,”

  
“Frankie, you don’t understand!” Gerard sprung up to his feet, making me jump. He stood in front of me, his whole body shaking slightly as he waved his arms out in frustration. “I can’t leave this place. I wish I could, but I can’t. I have to hide down here. Everyone’s out to get me, Frankie. If I get caught, chances are I’ll be sent back to Trenton State Hospital, or I’ll be sent to prison, and I won’t be able to get out. It was hard enough for me to escape from a high security mental institution, I barely made it out alive. I’m not taking any chances. I don’t wanna blow my cover. I don’t wanna fuck up and lose it all, because chances are, I’ll never be able to get out again!”

  
I sat there silently, Gerard’s words slapping me in the face. This is another thing Mikey was right about. Gerard is paranoid. Way too paranoid. Gerard is right about one thing, though. He is being looked for by the authorities; he’s killed three people and escaped from a mental hospital. He’s come too far to have it all put to waste if he slips a little and gets caught. He’s probably been to hell and back trying to escape from a high security institution, as well as hiding from the face of society out in the streets, hiding in dark alleyways, and now in this basement, slowly losing himself to his own paranoia and hysteria. He’s that insecure. He’s that fucking terrified.

  
Gerard panted, his eyes tired, yet still full of anguish. He sat down, looking defeated.

  
“I don’t even know how I’m gonna be able to get my revenge. I don’t even know how I’m gonna get payback…”

  
“On who?” I asked reluctantly.

  
“I need to get my revenge,” Gerard growled. “On the two men that ruined my whole fucking life. The two men that took daddy and mama away from me and Mikey. That’s why I escaped, Frankie. I made an allegiance to myself long ago in that fucking hospital that I will one day find those two fuckers and make them suffer. I realized I had to make that pledge as I grew older and learned how cruel this world can be. I wasn’t gonna sit there and rot away in a cell in a prison, or in a padded room in a nuthouse, dying without fulfilling my cause. I have a mission, and that mission is to make those monsters pay the consequences for what they not only did to my parents and my brother, but to me as well…”

  
That’s what Gerard wants. He wants revenge. He yearns for it. That was why he escaped, to be one step closer to fulfilling what he so badly wants. But now that he’s here, he’s stuck. He’s too scared to move an inch forward, fearing of getting caught, therefore this whole thing of escaping adding up to nothing. It’s his one and only chance, and he can’t lose it, because god knows what will happen to him if he gets caught. Maybe he’ll be under heavier security, more than he already was, making it just about impossible for him to slip through again. Maybe even worse than that. It all makes sense now. Everything’s starting to come together. This all probably explains the grotesque drawings in his room (at least I think it does). They are depictions of what he wants done to Cecil and Irvine. Gerard killed those bullies outta revenge too, after all they’ve done to him. It’s become clear now. Gerard doesn’t just crave revenge; he’s obsessed with it. While it’s definitely terrifying, I must say...he has a right to want revenge. After that day his parents were taken away from him, his whole life became a living hell, and he wants the men responsible to pay for it, and make them feel every ounce of pain he did for the last nineteen years…

  
“Now do you see?” Gerard asked, his voice calm. “Now you know, right? Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

  
“Well…” I said, barely knowing what to say. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand what it felt like to go through what happened to you, but...I can definitely understand why you want those men dead,”

  
“I’m not saying I’ve been through worse than you have, Frankie,” Gerard replied defensively. “I know you didn’t have it all that good, either. I’m not asking for pity or anything like that. I just want you to understand what my purpose is, and why I’m so frustrated right now. I have two men on my kill list, and I’m gonna hunt them down, and I’m not gonna let anyone or anything stop me. But I don’t know where to go from here. I’m too scared to leave this place. I don’t know what I’m gonna do!”

  
“But, Gerard,” I put my hand on his shoulder. “What do you think would happen if you were to just come outta the basement? Like I said before, it’s just upstairs, not outside. It’s just Mikey, Ray, and Bob. They’re not gonna turn you in or anything, you know that. Not if they let you live in their own house!”

  
“You’re right about that, but…”

  
“But what?” I said, getting slightly frustrated by how resistant Gerard is.

  
“...but I don’t think they know I escaped from the hospital. If they did, I think they’d change their minds about letting me stay here. They’ll have me turned in. Besides, what would they think if they saw me after so much time has passed? I can barely stand to face anyone anymore. I can’t trust people anymore. The only person that I can give even an ounce of my trust to is you, Frankie…and sometimes, I get scared that even if I do that, something will happen. I’ve trusted people I thought I could, but the end result was all of that blowing up in my face…”

  
“I know what you mean. I told you what happened when I came out to Derek, right?” I said, nearly feeling myself gag saying fucker’s name. “But you know what? I opened up to you about what happened to me, because I wanted to put it behind me. I needed to vent. I came to you, and you were there for me. You gave me a shoulder to cry on. I told you some things I wasn’t comfortable talking about, and as a result, I realized I did the right thing. I trusted you, Gerard. Don’t you remember?”

  
“Of course I do, Frankie. I really wanted to help you,”

  
“And that’s what I wanna do for you, Gerard. I wanna help you! I wanna help you stop being so scared, you know? I’m sick of constantly having to sneak down here, and I’m sure you are sick of waiting for me all the time. Plus, when I talked to Mikey last night, he told me he still really wants to help you. I’m sure Ray and Bob do too. I swear, I won’t tell them anything about you escaping. I mean it. Besides, if you just stay down here and never come out…what makes you think you’ll ever be able to find and kill the people that murdered your parents?”

  
I suddenly stopped, realizing what I just let come out of my mouth. Do I really wanna help him? I wanna help him come outta this basement. I wanna be with him more. He means so much to me, more than I thought. But if I do that, if I do help him come out of this place, that’ll bring him closer to fulfilling his pledge to kill two more people. What kind of person does that make me?

  
I’m not just enabling a friend. I’m enabling a murderer...but he’s a murderer with a cause; a cause to get revenge on two horrible people. Two people that I myself wanna see get what they truly deserve.

  
Yes. I do wanna help Gerard. I do wanna help him get his revenge.

  
“Frankie…” Gerard whispered, his eyes wide. “Do you...really mean that? You wanna...help me?”

  
“Y-yes,” I replied, feeling my whole body shake. “I do. Whatever it takes to get you outta here. Whatever it takes to help you…”

  
“D-do you...really m-mean it...F-Frankie?” Gerard stuttered, a smile slowly growing on his face. “Y-you wanna help me...g-get...revenge? You wanna...f-fix me?”

  
“Yes!” I exclaimed, my whole body shaking. “Yes I do, Gerard. I’ll try to fix you. I do wanna fix you, damn it!”

  
“Frankie!” Gerard yelled joyously, taking me in his arms and wrapping them around my trembling body. “Oh my god, Frankie...thank you! Thank you so much!”

  
Accepting Gerard’s embrace, I hugged him tightly, welcoming the tears of joy in my eyes. I really do wanna help him. I want him to be happy. I want him to be fixed. Seeing him so elated, knowing that there’s someone that really cares for him, really puts a smile on my face; it does so much that it makes me cry.

  
“You’re welcome, Gee…” I said, sniffling. “You’re very welcome…”

  
“Hey,” Gerard released me from his grip, seeing the tears in my eyes and wiping them with a gentle hand. “Don’t you cry, Frankie…”

  
“I’m sorry, Gee,” I smiled, loving the feeling of his warm and tender and on my face. “I’m just so happy to help you. I’m happy to see you happy!”

  
“I know, Frankie. I know you are. I am, too. I’m happy to have someone like you in my life. Someone that cares for me. Someone that wants to really help me...Thanks again, Frankie…” Gerard whispered, smiling as he took me into one final embrace. “For everything,”

  
“You’re welcome,” I said, my voice muffled in his shoulder. “Are you ready to come upstairs?”

  
“I...I think so…” Gerard replied, voice quivering. “Be right back,”

  
Gerard stood up from the couch, walking down to his bedroom door and closing it shut, followed by locking it shut with a slight click sound. He came back and sat down, his discomfort gradually becoming more obvious, seeing the disturbed look on his face.

  
“Why’d you lock your door?” I asked, a little confused.

  
“Because…” Gerard muttered. “I don’t want anyone to come into my room when I’m not around...and see what’s in there…”

  
“Oh,” I nodded, knowing he’s referring to the graphic, obscene drawings of the mutilated bodies. “I see,”

  
I stood up, waiting for Gerard to do the same. He sat there on the couch looking up at me, fearing what’s yet to come, hesitant to leave.

  
“F-frankie…” he stuttered. “I...I’m scared,”

  
“It’s okay, Gee,” I said, lending a hand to him. “I’m here. Come on, let’s go,”

  
Gerard slowly got up, his hand shaking and hanging onto mine for his dear life. He gazed over at me, fear radiating from his eyes, much like a scared child clinging onto his mother.

  
“Will you take me up there?” he whispered shakily.

  
“Of course I will,”

  
“Don’t let go, okay?”

  
“I won’t,”

  
“You...you promise?”

  
“I promise, Gerard. I do. Just be strong and hold my hand...okay?”

  
“Okay…”

  
“Alright, let’s go,”

  
With Gerard’s hand in mine once again, we left the couch and slowly made our way to the bottom of the stairs, the door at the top waiting to be opened. I turned around to look at Gerard, whose hazel eyes are bulging with fear, huffs of panic escaping his trembling lips.

  
“It’s okay, Gee,” I said reassuringly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you again. Your little brother, Mikey? He still wears glasses. Ray’s fro has gotten bigger, y’know,”

  
My attempts to calm Gerard down weren’t working. He’s still shaking, clearly terrified as he was the first time we met, when he was reluctant to leave his room. His eyes frantically scanned the room around him, knowing he’s finally about to step out of his haven.

  
“Frankie…” he whispered through chattering teeth. “F-Frankie...Fran-kie...Frank-”

  
“Shh!” I put a finger to my lips. “It’s okay. Don’t panic. Just keep holding my hand, okay? Just breathe…come on, in...”

  
Gerard shut his eyes, following my prompts, slowly breathing in and holding his breath.

  
“And out…” I said in a hushed tone.

  
Gerard exhaled, eyes still shut. I guided him through the breathing meditation a few more times until I felt Gerard’s shakiness decrease slightly. He opened his eyes back up, no longer as frantic as before. But only a little less.

  
“Okay,” I whispered. “Ready?”

  
“Yeah…” Gerard said, nodding his head. “Let’s go…”

  
Slowly, with Gerard behind me, we both stepped up the stairs, one rung at a time. I constantly glanced back at Gerard to make sure he’s not about to have a panic attack on me (or even worse than that), god forbid he did. Before we knew it, we were already only three steps away from the door. Great. Almost there-

  
“Stop it!” Gerard hissed, his eyes glued to the floor, both hands tightly gripping mine. He began to shake again, this time much worse than before, so much it looks like he’s close to having a seizure.

  
“No, stop it! Shut up, damn you. Go away, just-”

  
“Gerard!” I shook him slightly, feeling myself lose my cool as well. I know what's happening right now (at least, I think I do). Gerard is arguing with the voices in his head...again. “Gerard, look at me!”

  
“No, don’t do it!” Gerard whimpered, the child-like voice from earlier returning. “Leave me alone! Don’t hurt me!”

  
One of his hands released it’s grip from mine and made it’s way up to his face, slapping and hitting himself repeatedly, much like he did last night.

  
“Gerard!” I nearly screamed, clutching his hand. “Stop it! Stop it, Gerard! Stop it!”

  
Gerard resisted, his arm wrangling and flailing in my hand as he continued to attempt inflicting pain upon himself, punishing himself for trying to leave his safe zone.

  
“Don’t hit me!” he cried, as if begging himself to stop. “Please don’t hurt me! I didn’t mean to do it! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorryi’msorryi’msorryi’mso-”

  
“Gerard! Stop it!”

  
Screaming his name at the top of my lungs, I forced Gerard towards me, tightly restraining him in my arms, embracing him and begging him to stop as he continued to shout at himself in the midst of his rambling psychosis. I held him in my arms, like an exhausted mother would do with her crying and wailing baby, pleading it to just stop.

  
“Please stop, Gerard,” I cried, feeling defeated as I desperately pleaded the man I care for so much to stop. “Please, please stop it, Gerard...I-”

  
“Frank!”

  
The door above us flew wide open, making us both jump. We looked up to find Mikey at the top of the stairs, his body frozen and shaking, eyes behind his glasses brimming with utter horror. There’s something in his trembling hand…

  
It’s big.

  
It’s sharp.

  
It’s long.

  
It’s a weapon.

  
It’s a kitchen knife in Mikey’s hand.

  
Everything came to a screeching halt, leaving us all frozen and in silence, as if time itself had just stopped. Me and Gerard stared up at Mikey, who stared back at the both of us, still wide-eyed and devastated. I felt all the blood drain from my face as I held on to Gerard, who is standing still and no longer on the verge of hysteria.  
Oh my god...oh my fucking god…

  
What was Mikey doing with the knife in his hand?

  
Was he gonna hurt Gerard?

  
Was he gonna kill him?

  
“Mikey…” I said weakly. “I…”

  
The knife fell out of Mikey’s hand, dropping to the floor. He covered his mouth with both hands, his eyes barely able to take in what was right in front of him.

  
“Frank…” he gasped. “G-gerard…”

  
Gerard gazed up at him, his mouth hung open. He slowly stepped up the stairs, leaving his haven for the first time in years.

  
“M-michael…” he stuttered, the childish voice still present. “Mi...key…M-Mi-key...little baby b-brother…”

  
“Gerard…”

  
“Brother!”

  
The Way brothers embraced each other, reunited once again.

  
“It’s okay, Gerard…” Mikey said, patting Gerard’s back. “It’s all gonna be okay, big brother…”

  
“I missed you, Mikey,” Gerard whimpered, his shaking voice muffled. “I missed you, little baby brother…”

  
“I missed you too, big brother…”

  
I’m still shaken after what just happened. Was Mikey seriously gonna try to kill his own brother to save me? Did he think he was trying to hurt me again? He must’ve, hearing what was going on just minutes ago. It also felt like being stabbed in the heart over and over again seeing Gerard so distressed, hitting himself and arguing with the unknown voices in his head, whatever they may be. But I’m happy it’s all over. Oh, I’m fucking glad it’s all over. Gerard and Mikey are together again at last, and they missed each other so much…

  
Mikey looked up at me and smiled warmly, still holding on to Gerard.

  
“Frank...thank you…” he whispered.

  
I smiled back, nodding in approval.

  
“Woah, dude…” another voice emerged from the living room. It’s a bloodshot-eyed Bob, walking out of his bedroom, the scent of weed strong on him, as always.

“Gerard...how are ya, man? It’s been a while-”

  
At that moment, the front door opened. Our heads turned to find that Ray (or, should I say, Ramona?) has returned home, his usual upbeat and flamboyant self present with him and his fro. I think I almost cringed when I saw what he decided to wear today-a bright, yellow dress. It’s so bright I swear I can feel my eyes burn just looking at it.

  
“Hey guys, I’m hoooome,” Ray/Ramona sang, arms dramatically stretched out to show off the repulsively bright dress he’s wearing. “Check out this fabulous dress I picked up at this little clothing boutique! Ain’t it just gorgeous? This sunshine yellow looks so good on me! After all, I am just a big Raaay of…”

  
Ray’s face went pale when his eyes came across Gerard, outside of his basement. His jaw nearly hit the ground.

  
“G-gerard?” He stuttered. “Oh my god...Gerard...is that you?”

  
With all eyes now on Gerard, I can only imagine how overwhelmed he must feel. It’s clear in his face, seeing his eyes nervously scanning his surroundings. He looked at me, unsure what to do and begging me to come to his aid.

  
“It’s okay, Gee,” I said, walking up the steps and patting his shoulder, smiling. “You did it, man,”

  
Gerard smiled back uneasily, clinging on to me the minute our bodies came close to each other, much like a shy kid hiding behind his mom’s coat at an awkward family reunion.

  
“It’s so good to see you, again,” Ray said. “We all really missed you. We thought you were never gonna come outta that basement!”

  
“Yeah, man!” Bob agreed, nodding in approval. “Are you an F5 key? Because it’s so refreshing seeing you up here again, dude!”

  
“Welcome back, Gerard,” Mikey smiled, trying his hardest to hide himself laughing at Bob’s lame pun.

  
“Th-thanks guys…” Gerard muttered, smirking shyly. He turned back to me, looking as if he’s ready to duck and hide behind my body that’s much shorter compared to his. Ray and Bob excused themselves, making their way into their bedroom, leaving me with Mikey and Gerard.

  
“Frankie…” Gerard muttered.

  
“What’s up?” I said.

  
“Can you...do me a favor?”

  
“What?”

  
“Can you...come with me in the bathroom?”

  
“Why?” I asked, perplexed.

  
“Because…” Gerard bit his lip. “I wanna see myself in the mirror. I need to see what I look like…”

  
Still confused, I found myself glancing over at Mikey, who all looks just as bewildered as I do.

  
“What for?” he asked suddenly.

  
“I…” Gerard looked down at the floor, still hiding behind me. “I haven’t seen myself for so long…I just wanna see, that’s all…”

  
“Why not?” I asked. “Why haven’t you seen yourself?”

  
“Be-because…,” Gerard gulped, his mouth quivering and struggling to speak. “I just couldn’t look at myself without being laughed at...and called names…”

  
I still don’t know what Gerard’s talking about. Who would be laughing at him and calling him names if he’s the only one that’s been living down in that basement? I wanna keep asking Gerard about just what he’s talking about, but I think doing so wouldn’t make him too happy. I glanced over at Mikey; he didn’t look too pleased hearing what his brother just said.

  
“Alright,” I said, taking Gerard’s hand. “Let’s go,”

  
Together, me and Gerard made our way down the hall to the upstairs bathroom, with Mikey following behind us, keeping his distance. I stepped into the bathroom, turning the light on. Gerard stood in the doorway, reluctant to step in with me.

  
“C’mon,” I said, motioning him to come in. “It’s okay. I’m here,”

  
“Go ahead, Gerard,” Mikey chimed in, standing behind him. “Go look,”

  
Gerard nodded, slowly stepping into the bathroom. He stopped in front of the sink, looking up at his reflection in the vanity mirror. He stood there staring at his pale, bruised, messy-haired, and dirty self, looking anything but happy with how he looks; I can see it in his sullen and sunken hazel eyes. He reached a hand up to the mirror, touching it, silently cursing at the doppelganger staring back at him. I felt myself die inside a little, seeing him so disenchanted and forlorn.

  
“They’re laughing at me…” Gerard said, looking away. “They’re all laughing at me, Frankie...I knew they were all gonna laugh at me…”

  
“Who’s laughing at you?” I asked. “Who are you talking about?”

  
“The voices…” Gerard muttered. “The voices are laughing at me. They’re calling me names. They’re calling me ugly, Frankie...I am ugly. I’m a wreck. I’m a walking

disgrace...”

  
I sighed, feeling my heart sink into my stomach. It’s the voices in his head that are tormenting him, the voices that constantly feed him lies. The voices that just won’t leave him the hell alone. I just so badly wanna scream and tell them to fuck off, but I can’t, because they’re not real...at least to everyone but Gerard, they’re not.

  
“Gerard, you know that’s not true,” Mikey said. “You shouldn’t listen to those voices,”

  
“Yeah, your brother’s right,” I put a hand on Gerard’s shoulder. “You’re not ugly...you’re beautiful, Gerard. You’re beautiful to me,”

  
Gerard glanced over at my hand, then up at me, smiling a little.

  
“You think so?” he asked.

  
“Of course!” I exclaimed, wishing I could just shake him and scream that to him at the top of my lungs, because it’s true, and he needs to know it. “Hell, you’re really fucking beautiful, damnit!”

  
“Yeah, man,” Mikey said, nodding in approval. “You’re not ugly, or any of those other things. Frank’s right. You’re also brave coming up here, y’know? We’re all really proud of you, bro,”

  
Gerard smiled, looking down at the ground. There’s just something about the way he smiles like that that makes the butterflies in my stomach flutter and tickle me from the inside. It’s just that fucking adorable and precious to see.

  
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you all...so much,”

  
“No problem, Gee,” I replied, feeling myself blush a little seeing that cute smile on his face. “We can go back downstairs, if you want. If you’d be more comfortable-”

  
“No,” Gerard interrupted. “I’ll stay up here for a while. I’ll be alright, I think,”

  
“You sure?” I asked.

  
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Gerard nodded, eyeing the bathtub next to the toilet. “Besides...I’d really like to take a bath. I can only imagine how bad I must smell...and there’s no bathtub downstairs. Just a lame shower,”

  
Ummm...okay? It’s good Gerard (finally) wants to get clean (no, seriously...he really needs it), but why would he prefer to take a bath upstairs, in an environment he’s clearly not 100% comfortable being in, when he can just do that downstairs, in his comfort zone?

  
“Alright, that’s fine, but...why do that up here?” I asked, vocalizing my perplexions.

  
“Do what, bathe?”

  
“Yeah...that,”

  
“Oh, because…” Gerard fidgeted with his fingers, looking around the room nervously. “I, uh...I-I prefer to take a bath. I don’t like sh-showering. Besides, the sho-shower downstairs doesn’t...w-work,”

  
“Oh,” I said, saying “fuck it” to myself, deciding to leave the matter be, seeing how uncomfortable it’s making Gerard feel talking about it. “Alright, that’s fine,”

  
Why the hell should I even be worrying about what Gerard’s bathing preferences are? That’s the least of my worries right now. If he prefers baths over showers, godspeed to him. He’ll take a bath up here instead. I should just be happy that I finally managed to get Gerard, the mysterious man living in his basement, to come out and upstairs for the first time in months...hell, years! By doing so, I proved his brother Mikey wrong.

  
He isn’t beyond help.

  
He isn’t a lost cause.

  
He can be fixed.


	10. Kill All Your Friends

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so happy taking a bubble bath as much as Gerard. He managed to find some Mr. Bubbles bath soap and a rubber froggy that squeaks when you squeeze it, and is now all chipper bathing himself while singing some little song he made up about being a “frog dad”. It may come off as ridiculously silly and childish to some, but to me, it’s honestly so adorable and heart-warming to see him enjoying himself so much doing something as simple as taking a bath, his whole body engulfed in pink soap suds as he sings and plays with the rubber frog, having the resemblance of a young child playing with his toys in the bathtub. It’s like he’s living a precious moment in the childhood he never really had.

  
“Sounds like he’s really having a blast in there,” Mikey laughed, head nudging to the bathroom door down the hall as we both sat in the living room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy, to be honest...,”

  
“I know,” I smiled. “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so happy taking a bath, really,”

  
“Same here,” Mikey nodded. He glanced up at me, giving me the same warm smile from earlier when he and Gerard were finally reunited. “Frank...thanks again, man. I really appreciate all your help,”

  
“No problem, Mikey,” I replied, giving myself a mental pat on the back, feeling accomplished. “I just knew from when I first saw him that one night that I just had to do something. He needed help,”

  
“I know he did, Frank,” Mikey shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t think he’d come this far. I thought for a long time he was beyond help, really. Turns out I was wrong. Someone is here, able to fix him, and now he’s made progress, and because of that...I feel kinda bad,”

  
“Why?” I asked.

  
“Because…” Mikey looked down remorsefully, sighing. “Because, I’m his brother. I tried my hardest for so long, but nothing worked. I just gave up. I gave up on my own brother. Then you come along, trying to do the same. I kept telling you not to, and to stay away. You didn’t listen. You kept going down there behind me and Ray’s back. You really, really wanted to help him. You cared so much for him. You were so determined to fix him. And now, here he is, upstairs and happy as a clam. He’s still got a long way to go, but he’s still a whole different person than before...and I feel guilty that I had no part of that. I feel like shit, knowing I gave up on him, thinking he was hopeless, when all this time, I was wrong…”

  
I frowned at seeing Mikey beat himself up so much like this. Sure, it was kinda shitty of him to give up on Gerard and leave him to rot in the basement, but that’s because Mikey’s already fought too much to help his brother. I do believe he’s tried his hardest, but as it turned out, nothing worked. I think it’s also because he just couldn’t bear to see his one and only brother so damaged, like the time he saw him in the mental hospital years ago. All this time, Mikey hid Gerard like a skeleton in the closet (or, basement in this case). He didn’t wanna be faced with his failures once again, nor did he want anyone else to see for themselves. He couldn’t help his own flesh and blood brother, but some stranger living in the same house did, and because of that, he feels ashamed.

  
“I feel like I could’ve done more, y’know?” Mikey continued, guilt-tripping himself some more. “I could have been a better little brother. We were separated for so long growing up, but still. I just feel so pathetic, so dumb, so worthless. I was proven wrong...and I hate being told I’m wrong, really…”

  
“Mikey,” I said, my tone serious. “Don’t say that. I understand what you’ve been feeling. I really do. You tried your hardest, man. I believe you did,”

  
“I know I did, Frank,” Mikey refuted. “I know damn well I did. It was just so hard, y’know? When Gerard came here to live with us, there were just times we couldn’t face each other, because he’d look at me and start having flashbacks of what happened to us, and he’d just lose it, like that time I saw him in the hospital. I just couldn’t bear to see him like that. It hurt too much. I feel like a coward, knowing you saw that side of him. I kept warning you about how dangerous and mentally unstable he is, and...that’s why I grabbed the knife and opened up the basement door. I thought Gerard was trying to hurt you again, when I heard you both screaming like bloody murder. I didn’t want Gerard to hurt anyone anymore, or even worse, kill someone. But despite Gerard being like that, you kept coming back to him this whole time, you see what I mean?”

  
“Yeah, I do,” I sighed, cringing at the horrible memories of Gerard going into hysterics, hurting himself and fighting the voices in his head, like what happened just hours ago on the stairs. “But still, Mikey. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You should be happy that Gerard’s changed so much for the better, even though you are right; he still has a long way to go. But you know what? This is your chance, man. This is your chance to help him more,”

  
Mikey and I sat there in silence. Mikey continued to glance down at the ground, looking deep in thought. He glanced back up, nodding a little.

  
“Yeah…” he muttered, pushing his glasses up with a finger. “I guess you’re right, Frank. This is my time, and you made it possible,” he smiled. “Thanks again, man,”

  
“You’re welcome, Mikey,” I replied. Down the hall, Gerard is still enjoying himself in the bathtub, water and soap suds splashing as he continues to sing his heart out about being a frog swimming in the water with other frogs. The more I listened in on Gerard’s enthusiastic bath time session, the more I thought about how he was earlier when he insisted on taking a bath upstairs, outside of his comfort zone when he could simply just go back downstairs and shower there. Taking a bath was one of the first things he wanted to do when he finally came up here. It was clear he was desperate to get clean, but why did he simply refuse to do that downstairs, in the shower? I guess he just prefers baths over showers that much, but it just doesn't seem right to me. He did also mention that the shower downstairs doesn’t work. The few times I went to Gerard’s bathroom to take a leak, the shower looked like it was never used; there’s no shampoo, conditioner, body soap, or even a washcloth in there; instead it’s just cluttered with more trash. It looked like it was in just about perfectly good shape, aside from the garbage. Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about this too much; I could be needlessly digging way too deep into this whole matter, but something here just doesn’t add up…

  
I excused myself from the living room, walking down the hall and downstairs to Gerard’s basement. I tread past the living room and kitchen there and down the small hallway to the bathroom. I flipped the light switch inside, then proceeded to toss aside some of the debris in the shower. After doing so, I turned the knob on the shower wall, water pouring out of the head with ease. I waited a few minutes to make sure there was warm water, then waved my hand in it, feeling the temperature. There is definitely warm water available for him. This shower works just fine (at least, it looks like it. I’m not a mechanic, by all means). There’s nothing wrong with this shower whatsoever, meaning Gerard lied to me. There’s something else he doesn’t want me to know, something that a part of me wants to know, but another part doesn’t, considering some of the very dark and ghastly things I already know about him…

After Gerard finished his bath, he insisted that he spends the night up here, to all of our surprise, mine included.

  
“I really wanna stay up here for as much as I can,” he said, ruffling his hair dry with a damp towel, his body clothed in clean black sweatpants and a navy blue pullover hoodie. “I feel like I’d be letting you down if I went back downstairs again, y’know?”

  
“Are you sure, Gerard?” Mikey asked, clearly stunned as much as I am. “You don’t have to sleep up here if you don’t want to. You can go sleep back in your bed downstairs, if you’re more comfortable with that,”

  
“No,” Gerard said flatly. “I wanna stay up here a little longer, for the night. It’s the better thing to do, anyway,” he turned to me, giving me a smile. “I wanna be up here with Frankie,”

  
“Alright,” I smiled back, blushing a little. “If you wanna stay up here, that’s cool,”

  
“Yeah, that’s fine, but…” Mikey paused, looking around the place a little. “Where’s he gonna sleep?”

  
“Hmm…” I muttered, stumped. I looked over to Gerard, who just shrugged his shoulders.

  
“Anywhere’s fine,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the floor, if I have to,”

  
“No, Gerard!” Ray refuted, rummaging through the closet for some sleeping bags. “That’s not good for your back, you silly goose!”

  
“What about the storage room?” Bob suggested. “He could sleep in there,”

  
“That’s not gonna work,” Ray sighed. “Too much stuff is in there. It would be too cramped and cluttered for him,”

  
“Yeah, Bob,” Mikey chimed in. “Gerard can’t sleep in there. All our instruments are in there; Ray’s guitars, Bob’s drum set, and my bass, and I don’t want him touching any of that-”

  
“Hey!” Gerard pouted, giving Mikey a dirty look. “I’m not gonna touch anything, you-”

  
“Guys, guys!” I cut the Way brothers off before a conflict could possibly erupt. “It’s okay! He can sleep with me in the futon, alright?”

  
“Really?” Gerard turned to me, his eyes full of glee. Everyone else looked at me like I was outta my mind.

  
“Uh...Frank,” Mikey said shakily, brow furrowed in bewilderment. “You sure you wanna do that?”

  
“Yeah, I don’t mind. It’s better than him sleeping on the floor, anyway, right?” I turned to Gerard, who nodded in approval.

  
“Alrighty then,” Ray shrugged, grabbing a pile of blankets from the closet. Mikey just walked off, clearly still perplexed that I’m willing to share my futon with someone I’ve known for less than a week. Ray handed Gerard the blankets and pillow, who began to set up his place to sleep for the night, next to me.

  
“See you guys in the morning!” Ray sang, retiring to his room for the night.

  
“Night, Ray,” I said, getting under the covers.

  
“You sure you wanna let me sleep with you here?” Gerard asked, spreading his blanket out on the futon. “I tend to toss and turn a lot. I pretty much do kung-fu in my sleep,”

  
“It’s fine. I think I’ll manage,”

  
“Oookaaayyy,” Gerard sang, smirking. “If you say so, Frankie,”

  
“Whatever, man,” I yawned, noting to myself it’s about time I call it a night and get some sleep for work tomorrow morning. “I’m gonna crash, got work ahead of me,”

  
“Okay,” Gerard laid his head down on his pillow, facing me with a grin on his face. “Goodnight, Frankie. Sleep well,”

  
“You too, Gee,” I said, shutting my eyes.

_“Frankie…,” a familiar voice called, laughing. “Come look here,”_

  
_I opened up my eyes, finding myself lying on the cold, grassy ground in what appears to be a wooded area, seeing myself surrounded by dead trees and bushes, my body greeted by the windchill of the outdoors. There’s something odd about this place. Everything’s bleakly shaded, lacking any color other than shades of black, white, and gray, like in an old black and white film._

  
_Alright, I said to myself, just what the hell is going on? Why is everything such a depressing, bland, neutral color? How did I get here in this place? Who’s calling my name? The last thing I remember was falling asleep on the futon, next to Gerard. I scanned my surroundings, finding an old withering wooden sign. “Welcome to Monroeville Park” is what it says, painted in bold, black letters._

  
_Wait a minute...Monroeville Park? The place where Gerard hung out with Ray when they were both in high school? The place where Gerard snapped and murdered those..._

  
_I felt my insides churn when my eyes came across something on the ground near me; something I never thought I’d ever see; something that seriously scared the living shit outta me-Ray, Bob and Mikey all sprawled on the floor, their bodies horribly mangled and covered in a black liquid that I can only dreadfully assume is their own blood. I screamed, jolting to my feet as I felt just inches away from puking. I covered my mouth, gasping in horror when I got a better look at my dead friends, feeling tears well up in my eyes. Ray’s lifeless body was sprawled near a tree, with a large open wound on his torso and back, his entrails spilled out as if someone had carved him open and gutted him like a fish. Bob laid on his back, his dead eyes wide and facing me. His throat was slashed open like Ray’s torso, with his tongue hanging out from the open gash, resembling a twisted, fucked up version of a necktie. Then I glanced over at Mikey’s corpse, whose head was absent. His head was cut clean off of him, nowhere to be found. The stump of his neck spurted blood, further soaking the soil on the ground in it._   
_Oh my god...they’re all dead...they were all murdered...there’s so much blood…_

  
_My friends were fucking murdered!_

  
_Nauseous and mortified by the grisly murder scene in front of me, I dropped to my knees, covering my tear-drenched face with my hands and screamed, wanting to disappear. I felt something warm and thick on my face. It’s not the tears. I looked at my hands. It’s blood..._

  
_What the fuck happened to Ray, Bob, and Mikey?_

  
_Who killed them?_

  
_How?_

  
_Why?_

  
_What the hell is going on?_

  
_Am I going crazy? No, I can’t be! I’m not crazy!_

  
_This can’t be happening. This can’t be fucking happening-_

  
_“Fraaaankie…” the voice called again in a sing-songy voice, still laughing. “Come here, Frankie...I have something to show you…”_

  
_Wait a minute…_

  
_I know that disturbed, child-like voice._

  
_I know that twisted, unsettling laugh._

  
_It’s Gerard...and he’s laying right next to his brother’s dead body, curled up in fetal position, his head rested on the corpse. He’s holding something in his arms. His back is facing me, his head a mass of long black hair, his body clothed in what appears to be a suit._

  
_Oh, my god...oh my fucking god…_

  
_Gerard killed them all!_

  
_“Oh my god…” I cried, my mouth still covered with both shaking hands. “Gerard...what have you done?”_

  
_“Come here, Frankie,” Gerard cooed. “Come look, I have something I wanna show you!”_

  
_He just doesn’t understand, does he? He murdered Ray, Bob, and Mikey. Just killed them all mercilessly in cold blood, and here he is, all laughs and smiles. He’s enjoying this! He feels no remorse for what he did!_

  
_This man is sick._

  
_This man is insane._

  
_This man is a murderer._

_This man is a monster._

  
_This man is a freak!_

  
_“Gerard!” I screamed. “What did you-”_

  
_I gasped and fell back when I saw his face. His eyes are wide with bloodlust and hysteria, his pale face still bruised. A single drop of blood poured from his nose, streaming down his cheek. He is smiling wickedly from ear to ear, revealing his chattering teeth. He’s holding a severed head in his hand. It’s undoubtedly Mikey’s…_   
_Or, is it?_

  
_The hair on the severed head is black, instead of a blondish-brown like Mikey’s. It’s also slightly longer. The head’s eyes were wide open, all bright and marble-like and horrible, staring back at me like a mounted deer…_

  
_Wait, those eyes…_

  
_Those aren’t Mikey’s eyes…_

  
_Those are my eyes…_

  
_That’s my hair…_

  
_That’s my head Gerard is holding!_

  
_“Isn’t it beautiful, Frankie?” Gerard cackled, still smiling._

  
_“Gerard…” I gasped, my whole body trembling._

_“It’s beautiful...just like you, Frankie!”_

  
_“GERARD!” I screamed._

 

“Frankie! Frankie, wake up!”

  
I opened up my eyes, gasping for air. I screamed when I saw Gerard, swatting away his hand on my shoulder, my sweat-drenched body kicking and flailing and nearly falling outta bed.

  
“Frankie!” Gerard grabbed me. “Frankie, it’s just-”

  
“Get away from me!” I screamed. “Get away from me, you freak!”

  
I suddenly froze, realizing I’m no longer dreaming. That’s what it was. A dream. A really fucked up one. One that actually terrified me, despite usually having a spine with bad dreams like that-

  
Oh no...I called Gerard a freak…

  
I looked up at Gerard, seeing the tears starting to soak up his hurt, hazel eyes. He backed away from me, his body curled up and shaking, like a lost puppy.  
Goddamnit, Frank...now look what you’ve done!

  
“Gerard, I’m sorry,” I reached out to him. “I didn’t mean to-”

  
“No!” Gerard flinched, slapping my hand away. “You called me a freak, Frankie…”

  
“I didn’t mean to, Gerard!” I refuted, feeling my heart sink. “I didn’t mean to do-”

  
“I am a freak!” Gerard cried, darting outta bed and down the hall, retreating to his basement, back in the dark. His wails and sobs echoed throughout the house, slapping me in the face for what I just said to him.

  
That’s it. I’ve done it again. I hurt Gerard. I let myself call him a freak! I broke him, shattering him to pieces.

  
“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath, slamming my fist down on the bed. “Goddamnit! God fucking damnit!”

  
“Whoa, what’s going on here?” Bob said, emerging along with Ray from their bedroom, both looking irritated and only a quarter awake.

  
“Frank, what happened?” Ray asked, tired eyes scanning the room. “You woke us all up! Where’s Gerard?”

  
Before I could answer, I saw Mikey walk in the room as well, and the bitterly unpleased look on his face just tells me he already knows what happened.  
“G-guys,” I stuttered, all eyes on me. “Guys, I-”

  
“Frank,” Mikey hissed, interrupting me. “Just look what you’ve done…”

  
Unable to justify myself for the awful thing I just called Gerard, I hung my head down, continuing to curse at myself for being such an asshole. I have no words. I have no right to defend myself. I deserve to be guilt-tripped. The one and only person that meant so much to Gerard just pushed him away, leaving him all alone once again.

  
“Screw this, man,” Bob snorted, walking back to his bedroom, leaving me with Ray and Mikey. “I’m going back to bed,”

  
“Seriously, what’s going on here?” Ray asked, his tone full of frustration as his eyes glanced back and forth between me and Mikey. “I woke up and heard you guys screaming. Can anyone please tell me-”

  
“You don’t know, Ray?” Mikey interrupted. “Frank hurt Gerard. He hurt my brother. He called him a freak, loud and clear, Ray. I heard everything,” He looked back at me, resentment brimming in his eyes. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Frank. Don’t even bother going back down there to him. He doesn’t need someone like you…”

  
“Mikey!” Ray revolted, waving his hands in front of him. “Now, just wait a minute-”

  
Ignoring Ray, Mikey stormed down the hallway and back to his bedroom, slamming the door shut. Ray turned back, looking at me for answers.

  
“What happened, Frank?” he asked. “I’m sorry about Mikey, he can be a real jerk sometimes-”

  
“No, Ray,” I interrupted, shaking my head as I felt my eyes tear up. “He’s right. Gerard doesn’t deserve me. I called him a freak. I hurt him. I broke him again…”

  
Giving in, I covered my face, arms hugging my legs, my whole body curling up. I wish I could just vanish forever in a dark place, where I’ll never be found. I deserve to be all alone, left to rot.

  
“Frank,” Ray sighed, sitting down beside me on the futon, putting a hand on my shoulder. “He’s not broken. He’s just-”

  
“Yes, he is!” I yelled, voice muffled from my head buried in my legs. “Do you not know what he’s been through, Ray? Horrible people in his life made him that way, and I just made it worse, when he was slowly being fixed by me! I took what I was fixing and just ruined it all again! I’m so pathetic!”

  
Defeated, Ray sighed, looking down. He knew what I did. There’s no way in hell he can defend me. I’m the one that called Gerard a freak. I’m the one that broke him again. Mikey has every right to be mad at me, and Ray knows it.

  
“Frank…” he said. “I know you didn’t mean to call Gerard a freak,”

  
“I still did it though!” I refuted. “I’m still guilty! I still made him cry!”

  
“Just because you say something doesn’t automatically mean you actually mean it, Frank. After all, actions do speak louder than words, y’know. I heard all that commotion going on earlier. It was like you were having a bad dream or something, and Gerard was trying to help you; he wanted you to wake up,”

  
“What?” I asked, perplexed. “How do you know?”

  
“You kept screaming and crying, saying Gerard’s name over and over. You were screaming that people were dead, or something like that. You said there’s blood everywhere. You kept asking Gerard what he did, and he kept calling your name, begging you to wake up. It was at that moment I think I knew what was going on, despite trying to sleep…”

  
“I know…” I said, kinda stunned at Ray. “It’s just that...I did have a bad dream, you’re right about that. I dreamt that Gerard murdered you all, you, Bob and Mikey...and me…”

  
“Oh, dear,” Ray gasped, covering his mouth with a hand. “Are you serious?”

  
“Dead serious,” I replied. “I remember being in this park, finding your bodies all mangled and shit, and then I found Gerard on the ground near Mikey’s body...and Gerard was laughing and smiling, holding my head. It was in Monroeville Park, where he…”

  
I suddenly stopped, wishing I did so earlier. Ray doesn’t know what Gerard did, does he?

  
“Wait…” Ray said, eyes wide. “Monroeville...that’s where Gerard went to school. That’s where...he killed those kids,”

  
I guess he does know, which is sorta a relief, I think.

  
“Oh my god, Frank…” Ray turned to me, face full of utter shock. “that’s some fucked up dream you had. It’s like in that dream, we got murdered, instead of those guys that bullied Gerard…”

  
“Yeah...that’s pretty much what happened,”

  
“I see…,” Ray sighed somberly, looking down at his folded hands. “I always knew there was something wrong with Gerard. I remember him from high school, y’know,”

  
“I know, Mikey told me. He told me you would always meet up with Gerard at Monroeville Park and hang out with him there, even though you and I went to a different school than he did, right?”

  
“Yep,” Ray nodded. “That’s how I knew Gerard,”

  
“What was he like?” I asked, curious. “What was he like in high school?”

  
“He…” Ray paused, looking like he’s trying to carefully put each and every sentence together, slowly and diligently as possible. “He was like...the best way I can put it is that he was pretty much no different than he is now, y’know?”

  
“Yeah, I see what you mean,”

  
“Yeah. I remember when I first met him. We were both seniors, I think. I remember I was taking a little stroll through the park, then I found this guy, sitting on a bench under a tree all by himself, drawing in a sketchbook. I looked at what he was drawing, I couldn’t exactly remember what it was, but it was really good! I complimented him on his drawing, and he just looked up at me shyly. He didn’t speak at all. He never really did, til I got to know him better later on. I didn’t even know what his name was until he finally spoke to me much later! I saw him and how he was, and I told myself ‘Ray, you gotta talk to this guy. He needs someone’.”

  
“Well,” I said, smiling a little. “You did the right thing,”

  
“I know I did. I saw him, and he looked so vulnerable, so lost and alone, the poor little thing. I remember he always looked disheveled. His clothes were always tattered and dirty, his hair was a mess, he was always shivering and shaking like a leaf, even in the warm weather. I think it was his face that was the worst, though…”

  
“Why’s that?” I asked.

  
“His face told a story,” Ray said, shaking his head in remorse. “A really sad one. He had bruises all over his face, like someone was hurting him. I swear, there were a few times he even had a black eye whenever I saw him! He had these doe-like eyes that just screamed ‘I need help’, and when I saw him like that, that’s when I knew that I couldn’t just leave him. He needed someone. He needed a friend. I think that’s what you saw in him when you snuck down the basement that one night, Frank. You know?”

  
“You’ve got that right,” I agreed. “That’s exactly what I saw in him, Ray. That’s why I was so eager to help him. I didn’t just see someone that was a freak hiding in his basement. I saw more than that. I saw someone that was just...so beautiful…”

  
As I spoke, my mind pictured Gerard on the first night he and I met in the basement, during the party upstairs; radiant hazel orbs for eyes, snow-white skin, jet-black hair, an immense amount of talent, and possibly the most breathtaking and gorgeous smile ever seen on someone’s face.

  
“That’s true, Frank. He definitely is a very special guy, and that clearly got overlooked by too many people, which is just sad,”

  
“I know. It is really sad that not a lot of people were able to see that in him. A lot of people hurt him and picked on him. A lot of people took something so beautiful and damaged it…”

  
“You’re right,” Ray frowned. “I knew he was damaged. I could see it in him. I knew he was being bullied at school. I also knew from the way he was that there was something going on at his home, like he was being abused or something. He never really told me anything about his personal life, though. He was always very secretive about it, especially his home life. Whenever I asked him a question about what was going on at home or whatever, he just flat-out avoided it. I definitely knew for a fact something was wrong with him when he snapped and killed those kids. I didn’t get to see him until years later…”

  
“Mikey told me you found him living out on the streets, like you did with me. Is that true?” I asked.

  
“Yeah, it is...except he wasn’t in a bar like you were, Frank. Gerard was living in a cardboard box in an alleyway,”

  
“Mikey told me that, too. What was he like when you found him?”

  
“Oh my god, Frank…” Ray frowned, his eyes full of genuine sadness and remorse. “He looked awful, a complete wreck. Much worse than he did when I first met him in the park. I swear, I cried when I saw him again, all alone in that small box he barely fit in…”

  
“Really?” I said, feeling my heart sink. “Was he that bad?”

  
“Yeah, he was. He looked like he hadn’t showered in so long, plus his clothes were in tatters and he was so skinny, like it’s been so long since he’s eaten anything! At first, I didn’t recognize him, but then, I saw those eyes...I remembered those doe-like eyes he had, those sad and hollow eyes full of pain...and it all just slapped me in the face. It was Gerard in that box in a dark alley, not just some stranger,”

  
“Did he say anything to you when you saw him?” I asked, picturing what Ray must’ve been wearing that day he saw Gerard. I can only imagine…

  
“Honestly, Frank...he did, but I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about,”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“He, like...he kept talking in word salads, ranting and rambling a bunch of nonsense, talking to the thin air. Can’t really remember what much of it was, some mumbo-jumbo about police cars and people coming after him to stick needles in his head, something like that, but...fucking hell, man, he clearly wasn’t all that well in the head. It was so heartbreaking to see him so messed up like that…”

  
“Oh,” I nodded, frowning. “I see. How did you get him to come home with you?”

  
“It took quite a lot of convincing and reminiscing. He didn’t recognize me at first, since it’s been so long since we last saw each other. I think after he finally recognized who I was, he decided to tag along with me. I just couldn’t leave him like that. He needed help...badly. I woulda felt like such an ass if I never decided to take him home with me, but...sometimes now I kinda regret doing it, knowing how he is…”

  
“I understand,” I nodded. “He really does worry me sometimes. There were times he went totally bonkers and it scared the living shit outta me, you know?”

  
“Exactly, Frank. I was so devastated when I found out he killed those kids so long ago. It was all over the news, it was crazy! It shocked me even more when I found out he got sent to a mental institution instead of prison, but then again...knowing how he is, I shouldn’t really have been so surprised. It really boggles my mind that he got out, you know? I dunno how he was able to leave, considering the state he was in, especially when I saw him out in the streets that one time,”

  
Gerard was right. Ray doesn’t know the truth about how he really got out. He wasn’t discharged, let free to go. Gerard escaped from that hospital. How? I really don’t know, but I must say, I gotta give him props for being able to escape from such a place and stay off the radar for so long…

  
“But, you know what, Frank?” Ray said suddenly. “I’m still happy he’s here. Same goes for you,”

  
“Thanks, man. Woulda never happened if it hadn’t been for you,”

  
“Well, of course! You know what, Frank? I’ve got a feeling about something…”

  
“What’s that?” I asked.

  
“I think you and Gerard have like...some sort of special bond, you know? Like it was fate that brought you two together, like this whole thing with you and him was meant to be,”

  
“I dunno about that, Ray,” I sighed. “I really hurt his feelings. I still feel so shitty for doing that to him…I need to tell him I’m sorry,”

  
“Hey, it’s alright,” Ray patted me on the back. “Just give him some space. That’s what he needs. I don’t want Mikey to give you a hard time any more than he already has. I’m sorry for doing the same too, giving you grief about going down that basement. I didn’t realize how much you ended up helping him, how much you’ve made an impact on his life. You really wanted to help Gerard. You went down there, despite all the odds. I must say, you’ve got balls of steel, Frank,”

  
“Thanks, I guess,” I laughed. “I should really get to bed. I gotta get up early for work,”

  
“Yeah, good idea,” Ray nodded. “I’ll talk to Mikey when I get the chance, tell him to chill out, y’know? Tell him your side of the story,”

  
“Alright. Thanks again, Ray,” I yawned. “Guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

  
“Sure, if I’m still here when you’re up,” Ray stood up, walking to his bedroom. “Goodnight, Frank,”

  
“Night,” I laid back down, trying my hardest to fall back asleep, despite all that just took place. I’ll never forget that awful dream I had earlier. I honestly don’t think I’ll be able to sleep well for a while after that. I can only hope it’s nothing more than an oddly coincidental, fucked up dream, and not a sign that maybe getting Gerard outta the basement was a horrible idea...so much of one that, in fact, it could end being deadly…

The rest of the week consisted of me working long eight hour shifts at the Tragician, followed by coming home to get warm smiles from Ray, and cold glares from Mikey. I so badly wanna tell Mikey to stop looking at me like that and fuck off, but I decided to just keep my mouth shut. I’m not dealing with it at all. All I wanna do is be left alone. Ray was right. Gerard does need some space. I just hope he’s okay, though. I really hurt him by calling him such a name. He probably got called that name way too many times, so much that he just can’t bear to hear it anymore, and when he does, it feels like a stab to his already broken heart. Accident or not, I still feel like a piece of shit for calling him a freak, even days later after it all happened. I miss him so much, even after only a week, which has felt more like months to me. That’s how long time has dragged on for me. I never thought it would hurt so much missing someone. It hurts so much that it almost feels like a piece of me is missing, and it’s hard for me to find it again.

  
I also still am really freaked out after that nightmare. I wonder if Ray told Mikey anything about it. If so, what does he think? Does he agree that it’s more than just a coincidental and really messed up dream, or does he think I’m just as “crazy” as his older brother is?

  
After working at the Tragician on Saturday, I decided to stop by the local grocery store to pick up a few things, like coffee. I also decided to not take the taxi again in order to save money; taxi fare can be ridiculously expensive sometimes. With my two bags of groceries tucked in each of my arms, I walked home in the semi-warm weather. I say semi-warm because it is still fairly cold, but not that cold; my best guess is that it’s somewhere in the 50’s right now, which of course is not that bad, considering it’s in the middle of December in New York. I don’t know if I should consider myself lucky or what.

  
As I walked down the front driveway to the house and searched my pockets for the spare pair of house keys Ray gave me, my eyes came across a man, sitting on the front porch, smoking a cigarette; a man wearing a navy-blue hoodie and black sweatpants, his long black hair uncombed and messy, his face pale and bruised, his hazel eyes sunken...

  
Wait a minute...that’s Gerard sitting outside on the porch smoking a cigarette!

  
I just about dropped my groceries on the hard asphalt ground when I saw him. He looked up at me, his eyes apologetic.

  
“G-gerard…” I stuttered, my jaw unable to stay shut. “You...you’re outside?”

  
“Frankie…” Gerard stood up, not acknowledging the question I almost never thought I’d be asking him. “I missed you…”


	11. How It's Going To Be

I still can’t believe what...or rather, who is standing right in front of me outside. I just see him, and it hits me like a freight train, over and over again. Gerard isn’t actually hiding in his basement anymore this time. He’s not even upstairs in the living room. He’s outside. Fucking outside! I was almost starting to believe that he would never step outside, but then again, one day he’d have to; that is, if he ever really wanted to carry out his plan to assassinate the two people...or, should I say, monsters that murdered his parents right in front of him and Mikey. And now, here he is, smoking a cigarette, still holding the same apologetic look on his face. I have no words for this right now. I still almost never thought I’d live to see a day like this. Gerard finally overcame his paranoia of the outside world...at least, he’s starting to.

“Gerard…” I said again, still barely able to fully comprehend what’s taking place in front of my eyes. “Why are you outside?”

“What?” Gerard pouted sarcastically. “I can’t smoke a cigarette out here?”

“N-no, you can, but...Gerard...you’re outside!”

“Yeah, I am, and the sky’s blue, and bears shit in the woods. What else you wanna tell me, Captain Obvious?”

Wow. I think Gerard has developed a sassy attitude since he finally decided to step outside for the first time in years. I think I should start calling him Sassy McSass-Sass instead of Gee. It seems more fitting.

“Gerard,” I sighed, walking up to him. “I’m so sorry about last night. I had this really, really bizarre dream, and I-”

“Frankie, don’t be sorry,” Gerard smiled, despite the discontent clear in his eyes. “You’re right. I am a...a f-freak, and you know what? That’s okay,”

“But you’re not a freak!” I refuted. “Gerard, I’m sorry I called you that. It was my mistake,”

“No, I am. I am a freak, Frankie, and I embrace it. I am fucked up. And you know what? It’s okay. It’s okay to be fucked up…”

I think Gerard finally realized the weight of what he just said. He looked down at his cigarette, all the joy and pride he previously had instantly vanishing along with the smile on his face. In fact, he looked like he doesn’t really wanna be out here. He’d been trying to play it cool all along, but that now has faltered. He’s really scared of being out here.

“Gerard?” I said, putting a hand on his now trembling shoulder. “You alright?”

“F-frankie...,” Gerard interrupted, his voice shaky. “I wanna be that fucked up freak that makes you proud. I wanna be the fucked up freak that doesn’t hide anymore! I wanna be that fucked up freak that’s not scared of anything anymore! I did this for you!” 

“What?” I furrowed my brow, clearly confused. “You did what for me?”

“This!” Gerard exclaimed, waving an exasperated hand out in front of him in the air. “I came out here for you, Frankie! Don’t you see? I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me. I want you to be happy for me!”

“Wait a minute…” I nearly gasped, only now realizing what Gerard meant, and feeling stupid for my own ignorance. “You...you waited out here for me?”

“Yes! Yes, I did Frankie! For you!” Gerard became more and more dramatic as he yelled, his arms stretched out and waving around him, his feet stomping on the floor, his voice rising as his body continued to shake. “I wanna be someone to you, Frankie. I don’t wanna be just some...freak that hides from the world around him! I don’t wanna be a freak that disappoints you! Don’t you understand that?”

I continued to swear at myself in my head for being so ignorant. Gerard selflessly put all his fears and anxieties aside and stepped further away from his comfort zone...all to impress me? He waited for me to come home to prove to me he wants to change for me. He did all this for me! It may not seem like much to some, but to him, it’s so much; too much for him...now I really feel pathetic.

“Gerard…” I shook my head, eyes wide. “You didn’t have to do this. I don’t want you to see you like this, all scared and-”

“I don’t care!” Gerard interrupted, eyes wide and frantic. “I don’t wanna be scared anymore. I just want you to be proud of me, that’s all! Aren’t you happy for me, Frankie? I don’t want you to think I’m a freak...I want to be a freak that you are happy for!”

I can’t take it anymore. I can’t bear to see Gerard so down and hard on himself. He’s not a freak. He’s my friend...no, more than that. He’s a friend I’m so fucking proud of!

“Oh, Gerard!” I let my hands drop my bags of groceries, the contents spilling out. I wrapped his tense body in my arms, feeling so close to tears. “I am proud of you, Gee!”

“You mean it?” Gerard asked, voice muffled as he held me. “You don’t think I’m just some cowardly, messed up...f-freak?” His voice seemed to constantly stumble over that dreaded five-lettered word. It’s a word that’s haunted him for too long.

“No, you’re not! I am happy for you, Gerard! You are so brave! I couldn’t be any more happier for you!” I let go of him, my hands on his shoulders as I looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t do this for me, though. You did it for all of us. You did it for me. You did it for Mikey. You did it for Ray and Bob. But most of all...you did it for yourself!”

Gerard stood there silently, taking in my words of praise. A flattered smile slowly grew across his face, his pale cheeks turning pink. I nearly jumped when I suddenly noticed Mikey behind him, standing behind the screen door, who must’ve heard us, seeing the approving smile on his face.

“He’s right, you know,” he said. “You should be proud for yourself,” Gerard looked back and forth between him and me, his smile growing wider.

“Thank you, guys…” he said, cupping his hands over his lips, looking slightly embarrassed from blushing so much. “Thank you all...so much,”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

“Here, let me help,” Gerard muttered, glancing down at the mess I made on the floor.

“Alright,” I knelt down, joining Gerard and picking up the groceries. Mikey then stepped out and did the same, helping us out. He glanced over at me, giving me a brief smile. I smiled back at him, nodding my head. He’s thankfully not mad at me anymore. It’s clear he knows I didn’t mean to hurt Gerard. Maybe Ray told him while I was away, or he just realized he was being irrational when he saw what happened between me and his brother last night…

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Mikey whispered, kneeling down next to me.

“It’s alright,” I muttered, accepting his apology.

After finishing picking up the groceries, we all headed inside and put them in the kitchen. Gerard and Mikey offered to help me put them away, which I graciously accepted. I stood at the counter next to Gerard, unloading the bags. I took a quick glance at him. It looks like he hasn’t bathed since earlier this week, when he took a bath with his rubber froggy. He’s even still wearing the same clothes from that same day. He looked back at me, seeing the concerned look on my face. He must’ve read my mind right there, seeing my eyes observant of his appearance.

“I wanna take a bath,” Gerard said, frowning as he looked down at himself. “I must look like a mess to you, like always…”

“No, you’re not,” I pouted. “You look great. Don’t be so hard on yourself!”

“Liar,” Gerard muttered. “Come on, Frankie. It’s clear I need a bath. I look like hell,”

“Well,” I shrugged my shoulders. “I ain’t stopping you. You can take a bath, if you want,”

“Okay…” Gerard’s voice trailed off, looking away. He really looked like he wanted to say something, but was afraid to. I know something’s on his mind. Like I said before, I’m one to easily to pick up on things. I’m very observant. So much it’s kinda scary, sometimes…

“Hey,” I said, finishing up putting the food away. “What’s on your mind?”

“Huh?” Gerard’s head swung back at me, looking stunned. “Oh, nothing…”

“Liar,” I smirked. “You’re thinking of something. What’s up?”

“You alright, Gerard?” Mikey asked from across the kitchen, glancing at us.

“Yeah, I am...but…” Gerard muttered reluctantly, looking down at his feet, his gaze absent.

“But what?” I asked. “Come on, spit it out. It’s okay,”

“Frankie…I got a question,”

“What’s that?”

“Are you…umm…” Gerard bit his lip nervously. “Are you...busy tonight?”

“No, why?” I replied, kinda surprised.

“Because...umm, I was wondering if...well, if you and I could like...do something together, maybe? You and me?”

“Do something? Like what?”

“Like...like, go out somewhere?” Gerard shyly looked up and down, from me to his feet back and forth. “If that’s okay with you?”

My eyes widened. Am I hearing him right? Did Gerard just ask me to go out with him somewhere, somewhere outside? My god, he did!

“Yeah, of course,” I said, smiling. “We can, if you’re down with that. What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, I dunno…” Gerard said. “Anywhere’s fine, I think. Nothing too crowded though, y’know?”

“Sure, that’s alright, Gee. We can think of something along the way,” I glanced over at Mikey, who look just as stunned as I did.

“You sure you wanna do that?” he asked Gerard. “You think you can handle all that?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Gerard nodded. “Besides...it’s been too long. I wanna see what I’ve been missing out on...I think I’m getting a little stir crazy, you know? I wanna spend more time with Frankie. I wanna spend time with him outside of that fucking basement,” he glanced over at me as he said my name, having the same flustered and shy smile on his face.

“Alright, then,” Mikey replied. “That’s fine, as long as you’re comfortable,” he looked over to me, giving me a “is this a really good idea” kind of look. I shrugged my shoulders, hoping that it is after all. I can’t even begin to think how dreadful it would be if it wasn’t…

_ _ _

After taking a shower, I started to get myself ready for our little trip as I waited for Gerard, who’s once again clearly enjoying his bubble bath upstairs with his rubber frog friend, singing the same exact “frog dad” song he made up in his head. I decided to put the shower downstairs to better use, so we would end up wasting less time taking turns using the bathroom upstairs to get ready. I also chose to go casual today and wear a band t-shirt, black jeans, and a blue jean jacket (all of which are mine. I picked myself up some clothes after work recently, and it feels to refreshing to not be wearing someone else’s clothing, for once). I stood at the vanity mirror in the bathroom, fixing up my black styled hair.

“Hey, Frankie,” a sudden voice called out, making me jump. I looked over at Gerard, who’s now standing in the doorway, his body wrapped head to toe in bath towels, his eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. “You...showered already?”

Oh, fuck...I realized what Gerard said about the shower earlier! He said it didn’t work, which isn’t true, seeing how it’s still wet from me just being in it. He got caught in his own lie, and it was all unintentionally done by me!

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Yeah, I did...the shower works down here, actually…”

“Oh,” Gerard said flatly. “I see,” He glanced around the room awkwardly, as if thinking of a way to cover his ass. “I, uh...I didn’t know. Haven’t tested it in a while, y’know?”

“Oh, really? It worked fine when I used it. Must’ve forgot when you told me it didn’t work. It’s alright, though,”

“Oh, okay…”

We stood there awkwardly staring at each other, unsure what to do. I turned back to the mirror to finish up my hair, with Gerard’s eyes still on me.

“You look so good, Frankie,” Gerard said, smiling shyly yet again. “You know that, right?”

“Oh, thank you,” I smiled, once again blushing like a dork. “So do you,”

“Uh...not really,” Gerard chuckled. “I’m not even dressed yet!”

“Well, go get dressed then! You’re sure as hell not going out in just towels!”

“I know I’m not, Frankie. I’m just waiting for you to get your little butt outta there!” Gerard sang playfully. “Or are you just gonna stay in there until it’s finally summertime?”

“Just a few more minutes, Gee!” I laughed. After I was sure I was finished gussying myself up, I stepped out of the bathroom. I saw that while Gerard waited, he went into his room and got himself a bundle of clothes. What kinda caught my attention was the fact that they appear to look a little out of the ordinary of what I’ve seen him usually wear, which are sweats and pajamas. These clothes look a little more formal, actually. I guess Gerard decided to look nice today, not saying he never does though. I can only imagine how good he’ll look when I see him when he steps outta the bathroom. In fact, it’s starting to make me all hot and bothered just thinking about it.

While I waited for Gerard, I laid down on his couch, gazing over more of his artwork that adorns the walls, still oh so vibrant and breathtaking. I then suddenly remembered that painting I pointed out to him that he was working on; the one of the tree on the hill, painted in neutral shades of black, white, and gray. I looked over at it, seeing that Gerard has worked on it a little recently. I also remember it’s the painting we talked about when he called me beautiful. The painting itself is still beautiful too, but of course not as much as Gerard himself is. I missed him dearly all week, feeling empty without him. I never thought I’d ever grow so close to someone, let alone someone like Gerard. Just seeing him makes me happy, especially when he smiles and laughs. Despite not knowing him for that long, I’ve already developed so many feelings towards him, more than anyone else in my life that I could think of. Whenever I am blessed with his presence I just wanna scream and hold him and tell him how much he means to me, how much he makes me smile and feel wonderful. I treasure every moment we’ve spent together (at least, all the good ones), like the time we first met in this basement, and especially all the moments we’ve embraced each other, and even kissed. Maybe Ray was right when he said that we were meant to be together, that it’s the work of fate that united me and Gerard. I honestly hope he is right, because I’m now starting to realize how much feelings I’ve grown towards him, so much it makes my head spin. It’s just like I can’t help falling in love with him, almost…

“Hey, you still out there, Frankie?” Gerard called from the bathroom.

“Yeah,” I sat up. “You done in there?”

“I think so…” he muttered.

“Well, come on out then, Gee!” I exclaimed. “Let me see!”

“Alright. Just close your eyes, Frankie. I’ll tell you when to open them, okay?”

“Okay!” I shut my eyes, feeling my heart race. I can feel myself shaking a little, too. Right now I feel like a little hormonal fangirl that’s about to meet her favorite band. Yeah, that’s how excited I am. With my eyes tightly shut, I heard the creak of the bathroom door opening, followed by Gerard’s footsteps, then silence.

”Okay,” Gerard said reluctantly. “You can look,”

When I opened my eyes and got a good look at Gerard, I swear I felt close to fainting, because holy fuck...he looks so gorgeous! I cupped my hands over my wide-open mouth, completely swept off my feet. He's dressed in a black blazer and button-down dress shirt, with dress pants that are the same color, with a leather belt that has a silver bat buckle on it, the shirt topped off with a bright, crimson red silk tie. His long jet-black hair is neatly combed, contrasting against his pale skin and lively hazel eyes. I don't think I can even begin to describe how phenomenal he looks...he just looks so perfect (or, at least as close as it gets. No one is perfect, obviously).

”Oh my god…” I said, my hands still covering my mouth. “Gerard, you’re…you look so gorgeous!”

”Really, Frankie?” Gerard grinned nervously. “I don't look like I'm, you know...trying too hard, do I?”

“Of course not!” I sprung up from the couch, running up to the handsome devil standing in front of me...the handsome devil dubbed Gerard Way. “You look great! Like, seriously...holy shit, you look amazing!”

”Do you think I'm a little too dressed up?” Gerard looked down at himself, examining the attire he's wearing. “I could always tone it down a little…”

“No, don't! You look good just the way you are! I wouldn't change a thing,”

”You sure?”

”Yeah, sure as hell am sure, Gee!” I mimicked Gerard, looking over what I decided to wear for today. I probably look like a complete peasant standing next to Gerard. He looks so astonishing it's almost scrotum-tighteningly intimidating. “How about me? How do I look?”

”Frankie…” Gerard smiled, cupping my chin in his hand, bringing my head up to face him. “You look beautiful, as always,”

”R-really?” I stuttered, hypnotized by Gerard's alluring gaze, his smile leaving me nearly breathless. “You think so? I look good?”

”You always do, no matter what, Frankie,” Gerard whispered, leaving me a sweet little kiss on my nose, dabbing it with his finger. “Remember that, okay?”

”Thank you, Gee. I will,”

Gerard released his grip from my profusely blushing face, our eyes still locked on to each other. I can only imagine how the guys will react when they see Gerard like this. I'm eager to see the stunned looks on their faces; I can just envision it all in my head right now. It would blow their minds to see Gerard, the mysterious man in the basement, all dressed up and looking oh so fabulous.

”Hey, Gee,” I said. “Why don't we go back upstairs now?”

”What? Oh yeah, sure,” Gerard replied reluctantly, the discomfort and anxiety just radiating from himself, “Let's go,”

I took Gerard's hand in mine, smiling at him reassuringly as we headed up the stairs. As we did, I kept looking back at him to make sure he’s not on the verge of yet another episode, just like last time we did this together. We made it up to the top in seconds flat this time, much unlike how it was last night. As my free hand wrapped around the doorknob, I looked back at Gerard again, who froze dead in his tracks, that familiar discontent clearly in his eyes yet again.

“You okay?” I asked.

”Yeah, I am,” Gerard nodded. “Just...a little nervous, that's all,”

”C’mon, Gee. You'll be fine,” I playfully nudged at him, opening the door. “Go on. Give em’ hell, kid!”

”Will do, Frankie,” he smiled shyly. “Alright, let's go”

Together, we stepped through the basement door and down the hall in silence, then entered the living room, finding Ray, Bob, and Mikey lounging around, watching some movie on the television. Their attention to it soon became long-gone when they each looked up and saw Gerard. Their jaws nearly hit the ground. All of their reactions were absolutely priceless, honestly. It almost made me laugh, in fact. As I tried my best to stifle my snickering, Ray shot up from the sofa, his stunned eyes as big as tennis balls.

”Sweet mother of Christ on the hood of a Mercedes Benz!” He exclaimed, running over to Gerard, looking just about ready to get on his knees and kiss his feet. “Gerard...you look so fabulous!”

”Yeah, man!” Bob nodded in agreement, looking just as shocked as Ray, despite being all hazed out from his daily spells of smoking...well, you know what I mean, right? “Lookin’ good!”

I think it was Mikey's reaction that was the best. He just sat there on the couch, his mouth agape and eyes full of utter shock and maybe even disbelief. He looked as if he just saw a ghost or something. But he didn't. He's seeing his one and only mentally disturbed, shut-in older brother not only outside of his cave (or his basement), but also clad in formal attire that he probably never thought he'd ever see him in instead of dingy sweats, knowing how he is. A part of me tells me that Mikey probably never thought Gerard would change, let alone see him like this, looking like someone you'd see on the cover of a handsome male model magazine. I can hardly believe it myself, too.

“Gerard…” Mikey muttered, his mouth still hanging open. He took off his glasses and rubbed the lens with his shirt, then put them back on, the stunned look on his face still present. “Holy shit, man…” He stood up and walked towards his brother, joining Ray in admiring the dark and dashing man in front of them. “Gerard...you look…you look great!”

I could tell by the bothered and uncomfortable look on Gerard's face that he wasn't pleased by all this, being treated like a celebrity in the midst of a paparazzi. That's what it must feel like to him, despite that said paparazzi only consisting of a few people, sans the cameras and flashing lights, in some crummy small house in the outskirts of downtown NYC, and not at some exclusive club or bar for big-named hot-shots. His grip on my hand became tighter, his fingers nervously twindling. As we stood there awkwardly in the doorway, Ray, Mikey, and Bob all crowded around us, exchanging praises to Gerard, the previously mentioned paparazzi vibes growing more and more profound. In the midst of all this, Gerard suddenly held up his free hand stiffly, his face contorting to a mild look of annoyance.

”Everyone!” He exclaimed, the ruckus halting to a silence. “Everyone, back the fuck up! I am dead serious! I am not that pretty, okay? Just please, back up!”

Obeying Gerard’s commands, Ray, Bob and Mikey all stepped back, their faces all devastated by the amount of sass radiating from him. I stood there, my face all scrunched up from trying my hardest to not burst out into laughter. I know I shouldn't be laughing at Gerard's obvious social anxiety and discomfort, but now that I know how much of a sass-wagon he can be, I just can't help but laugh. It's also kinda cute how sassy he can be, too…

”We’re sorry, Gerard,” Ray said defensively. “We’re all just so happy for you, you know? Plus you just look so stunning!”

”Yeah,” I chimed in, patting Gerard on the back. “It's alright, Gee. No need to get all worked up over it,”

”I know, but…,” Gerard scoffed. “Do you guys really gotta make a big scene over it? No. You don’t. It freaks me out. I'm not good in big crowds… “ He turned to me, his face not an inch shy of looking completely anxious. “You know, Frankie? They freak me out, like...a lot,”

Seeing Gerard getting so overwhelmed kinda worries me how he’ll be when we leave the house, especially considering the fact we live just outside of downtown NYC, which makes me think of what exactly we’re gonna do today. It's good to see that Gerard wants to be able to see the outside world and get himself used to it, but I know that throwing him in an over-crowded area in the midst of the city will be terrifying for him. We need to start somewhere small, nothing too crazy. But just where, exactly?

“But Gerard,” Mikey sighed. “I hate to break it to you, but...that's what it's gonna be like when you guys go into town. New York City is a big place, after all…”

“What are you talking about?” Ray asked. He motioned to Gerard, waving a hand it him. “Is this why you're so dressed up, Gerard? You guys are going out somewhere?”

”Well, yes, actually…” I said before Gerard could answer, who became more and more uneasy the further the conversation ensued. “Gerard told me he wanted to go out somewhere with me, so we could like...you know, hang out. We all thought it would be a good idea for him to get outta the house for a bit. Besides, I have the night off,”

”Well, Frankie...you guys don't have to go right into town. There's a local park around here that’s really nice. It's called Juarez Park. The weather isn't that bad today, either...so there's that,” Ray smiled, looking to the rest of us for approval. “How's that sound?”

“That's a good idea!” Mikey exclaimed. “I've been through there before. It's a nice little place. Great walk, too. You guys can maybe go on a picnic or something there, y’know? It's usually not that crowded either. It's also fairly close to here, maybe fifteen minutes or so from here,”

That idea right there does sound good, definitely a good place to start. The weather today, surprisingly, isn't that bad either, maybe like somewhere in the 50’s, at least. A lot of the snow has melted too (though I know that won't last long, considering this is the east coast in the middle of wintertime). I myself am not good in big crowds either, so you know what? Juarez Park, it is. I just hope Gerard agrees.

”Well, Gerard,” I turned to him. “What do you think?” I can easily tell that Gerard is definitely deliberating it in his head. He stood there in silence, his eyes focused on the ground, glancing down at his black leather shoes. After what seemed like a painstakingly long time, he finally looked back up at me, smiling a little.

”I think I like it,” he said. “I like that idea a lot, actually,”

”Really, Gee?” My eyes widened. “You do?”

”Of course, Frankie,”

”Sweet!” Ray exclaimed, raising his arms up in victory. “I knew you'd like that idea, Gerard!”

”Yeah, man,” I agreed. “How about if I make us some lunch for when we get there? A picnic there sounds good, don't you think?”

”Sure, Frankie. I'll help you!” Gerard smiled, nearly jumping for joy. “It'll be fun!”

I don't think at that moment I could stop myself from smiling like a dork. That's because whenever Gerard smiles, I do too. He always makes me smile. Seeing him happy makes me happy, too. Always.

 

After preparing our lunch for the picnic at Juarez Park, Gerard and I gathered up our things for our day out. Mikey generously offered to drive us there, sparing me money to spend on a taxi. As Mikey went to the garage to warm his car up, me and Gerard continued to pack up the last of what we need for our trip. I glanced over at Gerard, who is crouched on the floor packing one of our bags. I could tell by how much he's shaking and how silent he's been that he's really nervous about this whole thing. Stepping outside on to the front porch was barely a baby step for him leaving his comfort zone.

“Gerard? You alright?” I asked, knowing that deep down he isn't.

”Y-yeah, I'm-I’m fine,” he muttered, biting his lip. “Why?”

”Because, you really don't look like it. You sure you're alright?”

”Yeah, I-I swear I am, Frankie...j-just a little nervous, that's all,”

I'm not buying it. Gerard saying he's “a little nervous” is a complete understatement. If anything, he looks pretty terrified, the way he's always biting his lip and shaking so much, constantly stumbling over his words.

”Hey guys, you ready?” Mikey’s voice emerged from the garage. “You can start packing up the car now, in the trunk,”

”Alright,” I called out. “We'll be out in a few,” I turned back to Gerard, helping him pick up our things to load up the car. “You ready?”

”Yeah,” he nodded, trying to hide the fear in his eyes that's clear as day, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. “Ready when you are, Frankie,”

”You sure you wanna do this?” I asked, barely able to see Gerard so distraught and nervous. “If you're really not ready yet, it's okay. We can always-”

”No!” Gerard's head shot up, his eyes wide and beaming at me. “I really wanna do this! I need to!”

”I know, but still-”

”No, no butts, Frankie! I need to do this! I need to get out of here! I'm sick of being scared. I don't wanna be scared anymore, Frankie!”

”I know, Gerard,” I nodded. “I don't want you to be scared anymore either,”

“Okay, then,” Gerard breathed out heavily, calming down a bit...but only a bit. He's still shaking so much. “Just do me one thing, please?”

”What's that?”

Gerard set down the bag in his hands and wrapped them both around my free hand, looking up at me with those scared, doe-like eyes that just pull at my heart strings.

”P-please stay by me, Frankie. Don't leave me...p-please?”

”Of course I won't leave,” I smiled. “I'll be right here with you,”

”Do you swear?”

”I swear, Gerard. I swear on my life I will,”

”Thank you,” Gerard whispered, smiling back at me tenderly. “Thank you so much,”

”You're welcome,” I glanced back at the small pile of bags, knowing we gotta hurry up; Mikey's waiting for us. “Come on, let's get the car loaded, okay?”

”Alright,” Gerard nodded, releasing one of his hands to reach for one of the bags, with his other hand still tightly gripped around mine. He never wants to let me go. I'll never do that to him either. He needs me to hold him. I'd hold him forever, til the end of days.

After we got all our things loaded in the back trunk of Mikey's car, Gerard and I got in the back seat, with Gerard's shaking and sweating hand still hanging on to mine. Mikey sat down in the front seat, looking back at us.

“Seatbelts, guys,” he prompted. I fastened mine, then turned to Gerard to do his, seeing him so anxious and barely able to calm himself down. He's still shaking and sweating and trying his hardest to not to have a full-out panic attack, so much he can't even fasten his own seatbelt.

”Here,” I said, buckling him up with my free hand. Gerard just looked at me, clearly embarrassed and full of guilt, seeing the sorrowful frown on his face.

“I'm-I’m sorry, Frankie,” he stuttered, his lower lip quivering, like the rest of his body. “I can't do anything. I can't-”

“Shh,” I cut him off, putting a finger to his lips. “It’s okay, Gee. You're gonna be fine,”

”Yeah, he's right,” Mikey added. “Seriously, it's gonna be alright. Just relax, okay?”

“O-okay…,” Gerard looked down. “Okay. Let's go,”

”Alright, off we go, then,” Mikey turned back and started up the car, the engine roaring to life, classic rock playing from the car radio. With the garage door open, he slowly began to drive out of it and on to the street, away from the house. Gerard glanced back at it through the window, which soon became nothing more than a tiny white dot when we got to the intersection leading out of the neighborhood. He then glanced around all over the place, his eyes focused on the scenery outside the window, staring in curiosity and awe as we passed by rows of trees and bushes surrounding a variety of quaint houses and buildings, the winter sky veiling over it all.

”Isn't it beautiful?” I asked. “It's been so long since you've seen the outdoors, huh?”

”Yeah, it has,” he nodded, his mouth agape in wonder. “It has been...it is beautiful, Frankie,”

”Just like you, Gerard,” I replied, squeezing his hand. He seemed to turn around and look at me, completely stunned by what I said, seeing his cheeks blush, his eyes slightly wide. He then smiled, wrapping his arms around my body, burying his face in my shoulder, his hand still holding onto mine. I, of course, accepted it, my free hand stroking his hair. The most beautiful human being I've ever seen is hugging me yet again, and it feels so great beyond words…

Our embrace came to a sudden halt when Gerard's head shot up, his face full of utter terror. He eyes darted all over the place, his body once again shaking uncontrollably. He then froze, gasping and backing into the corner of his seat, covering his mouth with his hand.

”Gerard? What's wrong?” I asked, reaching out to him, feeling my heart crumble. “Are you alright?”

”N-no” he whimpered, shaking his head violently, his breaths quick and frantic. “I-I’m scared. I can't be here. Th-they’re looking for me. They’ve come to get me. They're-”

I grabbed Gerard and took him back in my arms. I can't bear to see him like this. I don't want him to be scared. I need to hold him. I need to be there for him. I need to let him know he's safe. I can tell Mikey wants to intervene, seeing the deeply concerned look on his face. But he can't. He has to focus on the road.

”It’s okay, bro,” Mikey said, glancing back at us as we made it to a red light. “We’re all here. It's all gonna be okay. No need to be scared,”

”He's right, Gerard. No one’s out to get you, no one wants to hurt you. It's okay. You're safe,” I know I needed to say that, even though it's only half-true. People are out to get him. The police are looking for him. He's on the country’s shit list. But you know what? I'm not gonna let them take him away from me. I'm gonna protect him with my life. Someone's gotta be there for him, and that person is me. I don't care if he's a killer. He's a killer with a cause, and he won't rest until those two men are dead, and damn it, I'm gonna help him find them. I want Gerard to get what he wants. I want those two monsters to be dead, just like he does. I want him to be happy. I’ve said it before, and I'll say it again: I want him to be okay!

Gerard clung on to my body, as if it were his only lifeline. With his face buried in my neck, he breathed in and out heavily, trying his damndest to calm down. At that moment, I think the car radio was definitely in our favor. Elvis Presley’s “Can't Help Falling In Love” came on. It’s a song I hold close to me, because it's one of the first I learned to play on guitar when I was in high school. It's also song that I swear definitely describes how I feel towards Gerard, because I swear, for the life of me, I can't help falling in love with him, despite how broken he is.

“Shh, it's okay,” I whispered, rocking Gerard in my arms, soothing him from his cries. “It's okay, Gerard. Listen to the song,”

 

“Wise men say, only fools rush in.

But I can't help falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you.

Like a river flows, surely to the sea.

Darling, so it goes. Some things were meant to be.

Take my hand, take my whole life too.

For I can't help falling in love with you.”

 

Calmly, Gerard looked up at me with those doe-like, hazel eyes yet again. He smiled, his body no longer shaking.

”It's beautiful, Frankie…” he whispered. “It really is,”

”Again, just like you,” I smiled back, holding him. “You're beautiful, Gerard,”

_ _ _

Before we knew it, we arrived at Juarez Park. I managed to actually pass out for a few minutes on the way there, my arms still wrapped around Gerard. I opened my sleepy eyes, shaking him slightly, his head resting on my shoulder.

”Gerard,” I said. “Wake up. We’re here,”

Gerard’s head rose, his eyes sleepily glancing out the window, taking in the wonderful scenery outside his window, adorned with maple trees and surprisingly lush green grass.

”We are? That was fast,” Gerard grinned,shuffling around in his seat, unfastening his seatbelt. “I'm so excited!”

”You are?” I asked, not sure whether he's entirely honest about that, knowing how he was just moments ago, shaking and terrified, stricken with paranoia.

”Yeah, I am. It's really pretty out there!”

”It is,” Mikey added, nodding in agreement. “I'll help you guys unpack,”

We all got out of Mikey’s car, all three of us taking our things out of the trunk. As we all did, I kept my eyes focused on Gerard; he genuinely does seem excited, seeing the grin on his face and how giddy he is, nearly dancing around as he takes bags out of the car. I think it's kinda odd, knowing he was nowhere like that earlier. Maybe he's just lightened up a bit, believing what we’ve told him, that no one is out to get him. Or maybe he’s just so blown away by the great outdoors, finally outside of that damn basement in the house he's stayed in for so long. Who knows.

After unloading the car, we all stood there, unsure what to do next. Mikey turned to us, smiling a little.

”Well, that's everything, I think,” he said, motioning to our pile of bags. “What's a good time I should pick you guys up?”

”Well,” I glanced down at the time on my phone; it's a little past three right now. “How about at sunset, like past six? How's that?” I looked over to Gerard for his approval, who didn't at all seem to mind.

”Yeah, I think that's fine,” he nodded, picking up some of the bags. “Sunset’s good,”

”Alright then, cool beans. Sunset it is,” Mikey inched his way back to the front door of the car, taking me aside as he did, with Gerard away from us near the small pile of bags. I could tell by the uneasy look on Mikey's face that he’s hella worried for his brother being out in the public eye for the first time in so long.

”Frank,” he whispered, glancing over at Gerard. “If anything happens, like what just happened earlier in the car...please call me. I'll pick you guys up. I'll be right there,”

”Sure, will do,” I replied quietly. “I just hope he’ll be alright. He really scared me earlier,”

”I know, that's why I'm telling you that if he ever gets like that, God forbid he does, call me immediately. I don't want him to have another...you know, episode,”

”Oh, I know,” I shuddered at the thought. “He seems better than he was before...let's just hope it stays that way,”

”Yeah, I know…,” Mikey looked down, sighing remorsefully, as if something’s on his mind.

”Are you alright, man?” I asked.

”Yeah,” Mikey said flatly, clearly lying. “It’s just that...I can't bear to see my brother like this. It keeps slapping me in the face how...well, sick he is. This can't keep happening. It isn't right. It isn't safe, y’know what I mean?”

”I know. It's gonna take time before he gets better,”

”Well, obviously it is...it's just that…” Mikey’s voice trailed off, shaking his head. A distressed groan escaped from his throat. “I'm worried that when he gets like that, all paranoid and distressed…he’s gonna end up hurting someone, or himself. I know he would; I've seen it firsthand. If he ever gets violent and psychotic like the way he does...he needs to be put somewhere, some place where he's safe,”

”What?” I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”

”What do you mean ‘what do you mean’?” Mikey scoffed. “He’ll have to be put in a psychiatric center if he gets like that, where he can be looked after, where he can get professional help. A place where he can stay for a little while, until he's no longer deemed a threat to himself or others,”

Mikey does have a good point. There's no denying that Gerard is an unsafe person to be around; hell, he's unsafe even to himself! I got put in a place like what Mikey’s talking about once before, because obviously, I was a threat to myself. I tried to kill myself. Had I not been put in a psych ward, I would've likely died. But, as crazy and absurd as it may sound, I cannot even come close to picturing Gerard being hauled away by EMTs, being sent to a psych ward. He would definitely be terrified, so much it would be heartbreaking for me to see. He would be so confused, yelling and screaming and crying for me, probably thinking people were out to hurt him instead of help him. I can't bear to see someone so precious to me go through something like that. It's just too much for me to take. It would also mean that the authorities would find him, and have him locked away forever, unable to pursue his revenge on Cecil and Irvine. Furthermore, it would mean he'd be gone forever, all alone and institutionalized, away from me, the person that needs to hold him and be there for him. I can't let any of that happen. I can't let them take him away, no matter what. But right now, there's no time for me to argue with Mikey about it. Right now I wanna worry about spending time with Gerard, not stand here and fret over how mentally unstable and unpredictable he is.

“Alright,” I muttered. “I understand. I just hope we don't have to ever resort to that,”

”I hope so too, man. But anyway...have fun,” he smiled, opening the car door getting inside. “I'll pick you guys up after six,”

“Alright, see ya,” I waved. I watched as Mikey started up the car and drove away, leaving me with Gerard, who is, of course, clinging on to me. I turned back to him, nearly laughing seeing him struggle to hold all our things wearily under his arms. “Think ya got enough there, Gee?”

”Uhh...I think so,” Gerard smiled uneasily, his body overbeared by the amount of baggage he thought he could handle taking. His body faltered, nearly falling over as a couple bags feel to the ground.

”Here, let me help,” I laughed, lightening his load and taking some of the bags. “Don't make it so hard on yourself, okay?”

After taking some stuff, I began to walk down the path leading to the entrance of the park, with Gerard behind me.

”You ready?” I asked.

”Almost,” Gerard reached out for me, taking my hand in his. I don't think I'll ever be able to hide the blushing smile that’s starting to spread across my face. He just loves holding my hand so much. I don't mind at all how he's so clingy, so eager to always hold my hand. I'd let him hold it forever, and it wouldn't bother me one bit. “Now I'm ready, Frankie,”

”Alright, Gerard. Let's go, then,”

Together, with our hands in each other’s, we walked down the gravel path, into the depths of Juarez Park. As we did, I made a note to myself that Ray and Mikey were definitely right about this place; it definitely is a nice place, seeing all the lively plantation and hearing the birds chirping off in the distance. Apparently Gerard agrees, seeing the gleeful and awestruck look on his face, curiously gazing around all over the place. He's been locked away for so long, behind the walls of a mental hospital, as well as his own dark basement for so long, and now he's out here in the open world, embracing the beauty it has to offer here at this very park.

We soon settled to a rather secluded spot near a small pond, away from onlooking joggers and dog-walkers that exchanged us a vary of either pleasant, neutral, perplexed, or downright disgusted looks. I could give less than a shit if people wanna look at us so bitterly, thinking we’re just a couple of queers that can't keep their hands to themselves. I've gotten that same look too much throughout high school to even care anymore. I'm used to it at this point. I don't give a rat’s ass what others think of me. Gerard, on the other hand, looked rather hurt, even scared. I really hope none of these ignorant people are the cause of one of Gerard’s manic and paranoid episodes. The worst that can happen is if he has just one of those right here, and he's sent off to a psych ward, like Mikey said he would do if such a thing happened, God forbid.

”How's this?” I asked Gerard, motioning to our spot. “We can eat right by the pond, away from everyone. How's that sound?”

”Yeah,” Gerard nodded uneasily. “That's fine,”

>I took out a giant quilt we packed for us to sit on and laid it out as Gerard set down the bags in his hand. We then laid down on the blanket together, glancing out at the gleaming crystal green pond, the sun radiating its light down on it.

”Gerard,” I said, turning to him. “Don't let any of those assholes back there get to you. They're not worth it,”

”I-I know, Frankie…” Gerard shook his head. “I just…,”

”Just what?”

”Never mind,” Gerard brushed the matter off, glancing at the food in our picnic basket. “Let's eat. I'm kinda hungry,”

”Alright,” I replied, reaching over to the basket to unpack our lunches, which consists of turkey sandwiches, macaroni salad, mixed fruit, kettle-cooked barbecue chips, ginger ale, and Oreo cheesecake for dessert (and yes, just listing the food here is making me hungry). I don't think I've been so eager to eat in a long time; everything just looks so good!

As we ate our sandwiches, Gerard's eyes suddenly lit up. I looked to see what’s got him so excited; near the pond is a bunch of baby ducklings with their mother, quacking and cheeping and frolicking around.

”Duckies!” Gerard smiled from ear to ear, leaping to his feet as he tore bits of bread off his sandwich. He ran over to the ducklings, turning back to me and pointing to them, his gleeful hazel eyes wide and astonished by the birds. “Look, Frankie! Duckies!”

”Yeah, I know,” I chuckled, feeling myself nearly faint from seeing how precious and adorable it is to see Gerard so happy and carefree in a child-like manner, like how he is when he takes a bubble bath with his rubber frog.

”Aren't they so cute?” Gerard cooed, tossing the bits of bread to the ducklings “Duckduckduckduckduckduckduck!”

I didn't say anything. I just kept laughing, completely in awe of how joyous Gerard is. It's also kinda funny to see, knowing Gerard is a grown man dressed in rather dark and formal attire, and here he is, getting all excited over a bunch of baby ducks, much like a small child would. However, it’s also bittersweet, knowing that this is likely a part of the childhood Gerard never had growing up, all alone and hurting.

“C’mon, Frankie!” Gerard called out. “Come feed the duckies with me!”

` ”Alright,” I said, sitting up and ripping off some bits of bread from my sandwich. I walked over to the ducklings with the bread in my hands, tossing them to the little yellow-feathered birds. As I did, I looked over to Gerard, who still appears to be enjoying himself. “You're definitely getting a kick outta this, aren't you?”

”Yeah, I am,” he nodded. “I’m really loving all of this. I’m so happy to be spending this time with you out here, you know?”

”Of course, Gee. Me too,”

After we gave the ducks the last of the bread bits, we both walked back to our quilt and continued to eat our lunch, watching the little ducklings scurry along the edge of the pond. I looked at my phone to check the time. It's quarter to four right now.

”Frankie,” Gerard said suddenly. “There's something I wanna ask you,”

”What's that?” I asked, reaching for a can of ginger ale, opening it.

”It's about what happened that night you had that bad dream...and you called me that name…,”

I sighed, dreading the thought of what I let myself do to Gerard on that very night. I still hate myself for calling him that name, despite not meaning to. I also cringed remembering the horrid dream I had that same night, seeing my own decapitated head wrapped in Gerard, that manic, wicked smile of the damned on his bloody face, all the bodies around him mangled from a slaughter done at his hands.

”What about it?” I asked.

”What was the nightmare about? I wanna know,”

Oh, God. Why did he have to ask that? I really don't wanna talk to him about it. I don't even wanna think of it. It's a horrid memory I just wanna forget, and of course, Gerard bringing it up doesn't help the matter at all. Why does he wanna talk about it, anyway?

”Why?”

”Because Frankie… I wanna know what made you so terrified. I wanna know what made you scream and cry and call me...a f-freak,” Gerard grimaced, his speech faltering over that word. He frowned at me woefully, looking lower than a dog. “You looked so scared, Frankie. It was so awful seeing you like that. It really hurt. I remember you kept yelling my name over and over. I just wanted to take you and hold you and chase away whatever was frightening you, y’know? What was it that was scaring you, Frankie?”

How would he react if I told him the truth? It was him that made me scream and cry. He murdered everyone in that dream, including me. I was terrified of him in that fucking dream. But am I really terrified of Gerard? Am I afraid of the same man I'm trying to fix? Am I afraid of the same person that I suddenly have so many deep feelings for? I know I shouldn't be, but…

”Tell me, Frankie,” Gerard's voice rose, his tone stern. “Tell me everything. I need to know what happened!”

”I…,” I can barely speak. I don't wanna tell him, but I have to. He's not gonna take silence for an answer. Maybe it's best if I do tell him, just so it's done with. “I dreamt that you killed everyone. You killed Mikey, Ray, and Bob...and me,”

Gerard reacted a little more dramatic than I thought he would, honestly. His eyes widened, his mouth hanging open, as if he just witnessed a brutal murder (which is ironic, considering he's done just that before).

”Oh my god, Frankie…” he gasped, both hands covering his mouth. “Are you serious? Is that why you kept yelling that there was blood everywhere?”

”Yeah,” I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach just talking about it. “That's why. You killed us all like you did to those kids that bullied you, in Monroeville Park. And the thing was...the whole dream took place there, too. You were lying near Mikey’s body, instead of William’s...and you were holding my head, instead of his…,”

Gerard sat there silently, frozen and mortified, looking as nauseous as I am. I don't think I'm hungry anymore, much unlike earlier. I didn't even finish my sandwich. A whole picnic was now just about put to waste, talking about the grotesque dream I had earlier this week.

”Oh my god…,” Gerard repeated, moving his hands away from his mouth, staring down at them, at the same hands that held tightly on to someone's severed head. “That's why you called me a...a fre-freak,”

”I didn't mean to call you that,” I said defensively. “Again, I'm really sorry I said that to you. I-,”

”No, Frankie,” Gerard shook his head, his cold gaze on me. “I’m sorry. I shoulda never brought it up. I would never do that to you. Ever! Remember that,”

”I know you wouldn't. It was just a bad dream, that's all. Just a really bad, really fucked up dream. It all just felt so real, it was...insane,” The more we sat here and talked about it, the more I felt like throwing up. I clutched my stomach, feeling it my insides do a flip-flop. “Can we stop now? I don't wanna talk about it now. I just-”

”Listen to me, Frankie,” Gerard clamped his shaking hands on my shoulders, that same hard glare intense and cold as ever, his face just inches from mine. “I swear I won't do anything like that to you. I will not let anything like that to you happen. I will protect you, Frankie, with my whole fucking life. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, including myself. I promise, Frankie. That's how it's going to be! I fucking promise! Do you understand?”

He swears to protect me? With his whole life? From what? It doesn't matter. I mean so much to him, just like he does to me. I made a promise to fix him. The person that’s supposed to fix him has to be safe, too. How can I fix him if I'm not, anyway? He has two people to get his sweet revenge on, and the only way he can do that is if I keep him safe, too. That's how it's going to be.

”Yes, Gerard,” I said. “I do. I won't let anyone hurt you, either. I'll keep you safe, too...I promise,”

The fire and brimstone glare in Gerard's eyes slowly vanished, dramatically changing to a warm smile. It's just so sudden and drastic that it's kinda unsettling honestly, but whatever. He needs to know that I swear to keep him outta harm's way, just like he swears to do for me.

”Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, Frankie,” he let go of my shoulders and glanced guiltily down at our forgotten food. “I'm really sorry I asked. I must've made you lose your appetite…”

”No, you didn’t,” I said, pretty sure to myself I'm lying. “It's fine,”

”It’s just that...I really don't wanna make it sound like I'm guilt-tripping you, but it really hurt when you called me a freak. I know you didn't mean to and all, it's just that I had to know why you did it. It's a name I honestly can't stand to be called, as cowardly of me as it sounds…,”

”Well, you're not a freak. You know that,” I took a sip from my ginger ale, gazing off at the pond again. “And whoever thinks so are all wrong,”

”Well, Frankie...I'm happy you don't think I'm one. It's just that I used to be called that by a lot of people...and hearing it just brings back bad memories,”

”Is that what bullies from school called you a lot? Is that why it hurts you so much? To be called that name and all?”

“Well, yeah...but others called me that too,”

”Like who?”

”Many people, Frankie,” Gerard sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I've been called that fucking name by some of my foster parents, by other kids in the foster homes, by some of my teachers, by some of the aides and patients when I was in the loony bin...and...the voices, too,”

“Oh, I'm sorry” I said, not surprised that the voices would call him such a thing. I hate those voices so much. They need to leave Gerard alone.

“They would especially call me that, over and over again...and it never stops. You keep telling yourself ‘oh, sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me’, but that's just bullshit. Words do hurt, Frankie, especially when you're called the same thing so many times. It gets under your skin after a while, and it does hurt, after all,”

”I know what you mean,” I nodded, completely agreeing with Gerard, because goddamnit, it is true. “I got called a faggot a lot in school. I got called a lot of things, had rumors spread about me, all that shit. And you know what? It did hurt me. It made me feel shitty. It made me feel worthless. It made me…,”

I stopped, realizing what memories my mind chose to look back at. It chose to look back at sixteen year-old me, in high school, all alone with very few friends, depressed and self-loathing. I remember I couldn't go a single day at school without being made fun of and bullied, constantly tripped in the hallways and laughed at, called a faggot and a queer, amongst other things. I got called ugly, stupid, worthless, and so much more. No matter how bad it always got, I always told myself to just brush it off and move on...but I could only do that for so long. There was a time and place where maybe all the things I was called was true after all; I was obviously gay, therefore I believed I was all those homophobic slurs I was called by everyone. I convinced myself I was ugly, like what so many kids at school called me. I learned to hate my own reflection in the mirror, seeing the pale, scrawny, acne-faced kid glaring back at me, mocking me. I convinced myself I was stupid, too. I didn't do all that well in school, no matter how much I pushed myself, and despite all the tutoring I seeked out in a vain attempt to improve my grades. I also seemed to always fall for a lot of the bullies’ antics, constantly getting caught off guard and shoved into lockers, getting ridiculed for whenever I was forced to do a class presentation, making myself look like an idiot in front of everyone. I soon started to believe that I was worthless after all. I was no one special. I was just a hormonal teenage boy with a pathetically average GPA and no future; there was nothing I ever excelled in to make me look special, I had almost no social life, and I was the only child of two overly-conservative and sheltering parents. I soon started to believe that maybe life wasn't worth living anymore…

”Frankie?” Gerard said, making me jump a little. Goddamnit. I spaced off again. He grabbed my hand, taking it into his, his eyes full of concern and bitter heartbreak.“Are you okay?”

”Yeah,” I nodded. “I'm sorry,”

”Don't be,” he squeezed my hand, both of his tightly wrapped around mine. “You know all those bullies were wrong. They’re all blind fools for terrorizing someone so precious and beautiful...you know that, right?”

”Yeah,” I looked away from Gerard, my eyes focused on the floor. I felt the sting of tears come to my eyes, without warning. I don't know why, though. I honestly don't have an issue looking back at a younger me, for the most part, that is. I was an idiot for trying to do what I did to myself that one dreadful January afternoon. It was irrational. It was selfish. It was cowardly. Had I succeeded, I woulda never met the wonderful man in front of me holding my hand. He would still be all alone in that damn basement, with nothing but the voices in his head, taunting and deceiving him. There never woulda been someone out there trying to fix him...and that person is me.

”Frankie…” Gerard shook his head slowly, looking so hurt seeing me a tearful mess. He knows there's something inside me I haven't told him about. I can see it in his woeful eyes. He knows I tried to do something awful to myself. I think he has a way of reading me, the clever guy he is. There's no point in hiding it. It's futile. What's the point of hiding it anyway?

”...it-it all made me wanna kill myself,” I blurted out, feeling my voice falter. “I tried to kill myself, because I was so sick of it all. I was sick of the bullying and name-calling. I was sick of feeling alone and hopeless. I was sick of feeling ugly and dumb. I was sick of feeling trapped. I was sick and tired of everything. I went home after school one day and when my parents weren't home...I swallowed a bunch of pills,”

”Oh, Frankie…,” Gerard sat there with my hand still in his now trembling hands, still shaking his head. “But you didn’t die,”

”I know I did, and I'm happy I survived. I just remember passing out not long after I swallowed the pills, then waking up in an ambulance. I wasn't dead. I was being resuscitated. I was taken to the emergency room where they pumped my stomach,” I gagged at the memory of the medics forcing charcoal into me through a tube they put in my nose, making me throw up all the pills I swallowed. I'll never forget how awful it felt, retching and puking up so much, all of it feeling painfully endless, the foul taste in my mouth. “I swallowed a bunch of my mom’s sleeping pills. The doctors told me it was a miracle I survived. If my mom hadn't found me passed out on my bed in time...I woulda died,”

”Damn right it was a miracle, Frankie,” Gerard smiled a little, contrasting against the pure sadness in his eyes. “It's a blessing you lived. I wouldn't be right here with you out here, had you not made it through,”

“I know. I'm happy I lived too. That's not what I thought at first though. I was angry I didn't die. I didn't want anyone to save me. I hoped to die before they could save my soul, and because I felt that way...I was sent off to a psych ward. I stayed there for almost three weeks and I absolutely hated it. It made me wanna die even more. They treat you like a fucking child there, the way they talk to you and everything! It pissed me off so much! It drove me crazy!”

It's true. I swear I can feel myself shudder looking back at the time I was in the psych ward at St. Joseph Memorial Hospital. All the aides and nurses talked to me like I was a six year old, despite being sixteen. I had to be escorted to the bathroom all the fucking time in fear of me trying to harm myself or whatever. Hell, we couldn’t even watch anything on TV that was above the age group of young children; I don't think how much I can tell you how much I grew to despise Barney the Dinosaur staying at that hell hole. Even the news was too much for us to handle, apparently. Don't even get me started on how early we were expected to be in bed at night.

”I know how you feel, Frankie. I was locked up in a mental institution for four years. I definitely know how awful it is in a place like that. How did your parents react to it all?”

”Honestly, they didn't react much,” I shrugged, finishing up my ginger ale. “Sure, they were shocked. They did come to visit me a few times, but they weren't all that dramatic. I think they tried to act like that so they wouldn't upset me more, you know? They just kept telling me to do as the doctors said, to take my meds and all that crap, go to the group therapy sessions, and focus on getting better. They were like that, until I got discharged…”

”What? What do you mean?” Gerard's eyes widened. “Did they like, guilt-trip you for...you know, trying to...off yourself?”

”Yeah, they did. They kept telling me how much me being put in the hospital costed them, along with the meds I got prescribed and so on. They kept telling me how I shoulda prayed to God and all that other bullshit, how that coulda stopped me from trying to kill myself. They made me feel even worse about myself, because even after I got out, I still felt depressed. When they kicked me outta the house after they found out about me being gay, I so badly wanted to die, like jump off a bridge and drown in the lake, or get hit by a freight train and have my whole body splatter all over the place, anything to take my own life. Anything to not live anymore…”

”What made you change your mind?” Gerard asked. That is a good question; what did make me not wanna kill myself? I can't remember that much, thinking about it. Maybe I chickened out, fearing what the outcome would be if I failed again, like what happened the first time when I swallowed mom's sleeping pills. Maybe I realized that life is worth living, no matter how bad things get, because there's always something in it that makes it that way. If that's so, then that one thing is sitting right in front of me right now.

”I dunno, really,” I said. “I can't remember. Something did. I guess I just held out hope,”

”It’s good you did, Frankie. I'm happy you're still alive,”

”Yeah,” I smiled, seeing the one on Gerard's face, feeling the butterflies in my stomach once again. “I am, too, Gee. I'm happy I held out hope. I'm happy I decided to live...because later I got to meet you,”

The amount of flattery that’s in Gerard is astonishing and so heart-warming. The smile on his face grew wider, his cheeks as red as the crimson tie he's wearing. He grabbed me into his arms, his warmth consuming me whole as he held me softly. I breathed in the strong scent of cigarettes and cologne on him, his soft tousled black hair caressing my face delicately. We laid down together on the blanket, my body curled up against his, my head over his beating chest. I gazed up at the sky, the golden setting sun overlooking us.

”Listen to me, Frankie,” Gerard whispered, holding me tightly. “Nothing is worth taking your life over. Absolutely nothing. Everyone's got something to live for, including you and me. I’ve been suicidal before. I’ve tried to kill myself a few times. I wanted to give up. But you know what? Life is too precious to give up on. I found my will to keep me alive...and that is to get my revenge. I am not gonna rest peacefully until I get my sweet revenge. I swear,”

I felt myself die inside a little picturing Gerard trying to take his own life. It already hurts me so much to see him hurt himself. Nothing so beautiful should ever be harmed and put to waste like that.

”And you know what, Frankie?” Gerard looked down at me, his eyes hopeful. “You're gonna help me. You're gonna fix me, like you said you would, right?”

”Of course, Gee,” I replied, shutting my eyes, the light of the sun gazing down at us. “I will help you. I will fix you...I promise,”

_ _ _

Mikey came and picked us both up after six, just like he said he would. Feeling barely awake, knowing that I didn't get much sleep last night and that I had a long day at work today,I laid my head down on Gerard's shoulder, who kept me wrapped in his gentle arms, his head leaning down on mine. That's what the rest of our day consisted of. We cuddled with each other on the blanket, watching the early sunset above us. It was just so fucking glorious, cuddling with Gerard, spending time with him. I couldn't have asked for a better day, despite the bumps in the road we encountered throughout it.

”Someone's sleepy,” he sang, stroking my hair. “Did you have fun today?”

”Yeah, of course,” I said sleepily. “What about you?”

”Yeah, Gerard,” Mikey glanced back at us through the rearview mirror, not at all seeming to mind us holding each other so intimately (at least, I hope he doesn’t mind). “How was it?”

”It was great,” Gerard replied, clearly enthused by his first experience outside, his first in ages. “I had so much fun. Juarez Park is beautiful, it's so clean!”

Juarez Park? Beautiful, yes. Clean? Yeah...sure. It is, much unlike the armpit that is downtown New York City; the whole town may as well be a giant dumpster...like Gerard's basement-

”There's something I wanna do tomorrow, guys,” Gerard said suddenly, his voice slightly raised, as if he just came up with an idea.

”What's that?” I asked, bringing my head up.

”I wanna clean up my basement. It's a mess down there,”

Well, of course it is, Gerard! Tell me something I don't know, why don't you? Oh, you did, actually! You actually wanna clean up that pigsty down there! Holy crap, am I dreaming right now?

”Really?” Mikey asked, his brow furrowed. “Now you wanna actually clean up down there, after living here for God knows how long?”  
”Yeah, I do, guys. I came out here and...everything is just so clean and lively and...gorgeous! It all made me realize how much of a pigsty my room really is, and I want that to change, you know?” Gerard turned over to me, seeking my approval, which I nodded in agreement to. “I really need to change, if I wanna be fixed, Frankie. That's how it's going to be!”


	12. Sleep

I think now I know why Gerard's basement is so damn dark. I just realized that there's only one small window in the whole place, in the far left corner of his bedroom, which is now in lieu of the graphic, vulgar drawings. In all the time I've spent down in Gerard's basement, the fact that there’s just one fucking window in this whole place downstairs just dawned upon me. I glanced out at it, seeing the sunlight’s rays shine through it. It's the only window to the outside world that Gerard has down here. He stepped out into the outside world yesterday, and it astonished him so much that it made him (finally) want to clean up his living space, which I generously offered to help him with, since I have the day off today. It's a big basement, therefore, it's a big place to tidy up, with a lot to clean up...and I mean a lot. This is gonna take a long-ass time to get done, like several days. It would be nice if everyone else would pitch in and help, but unfortunately for us, that’s not gonna be happening right now, since Ray and Bob are both out, and Mikey is at work, leaving just the two of us.  
”That’s the only beam of sunlight that comes into my room,” Gerard commented, seeing my eyes focused on the window as I helped him dust his room . “Hell, it's the only one that comes into this whole place!”  
”I know it is, I just noticed that,” I replied, using the cleaner-soaked rag in my hand to dust off one of the shelves on Gerard's bookcase, which is of course covered in layers of dust, as if it hadn't been touched in decades. Feeling the pollen fill up in my nose, I sneezed, the impact of it blowing the dust of all over the place.  
”Bless you!” Gerard sang, his eyes occupied on the nightstand he's dusting. “You alright, Frankie?”  
”Yeah, I'm fine,” At least, I thought I was, until I felt something tickle my shoulder, something small. I turned around and nearly went into cardiac arrest, falling right on my can when I saw the huge, pointy-legged spider just inches away from me. I gasped, feeling the hairs of my neck rise as I backed up against the wall, completely helpless. Did I mention that I'm deathly afraid of spiders? I don't know why I am. Maybe it's the way they look, their thin legs protruding from it’s body, it's tiny fangs snarling and full of God knows what kind harmful venom. Even daddy long-legged ones freak me out, despite them being non-threatening. But this spider here isn't a daddy long-leg. This one is bigger, thicker, more menacing-looking, one that looks like it can actually kill someone...one that can even kill me!  
”Holy shit!” I screamed, my eyes barely able to take in the spider’s frightening size, it's body dangling from a web on the ceiling. “Kill it, Gerard! Kill it!”  
Gerard leapt up to his feet like lightning, swatting the spider off it's web, landing on the floor. I screamed again, curling my body up as the thing crawled towards me before it made a loud crunch sound, being crushed under what appears to be a big and thick textbook tightly gripped in Gerard's hands, his body looming over it. He lifted it up, revealing the squashed remnants of the now fallen bug. My whole body shuddered seeing it, my insides churning. I shut my eyes and breathed out in relief deeply, knowing that the spider is dead. Thank fucking god. You're my savior, Gerard.  
”Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you, Gerard,”  
“Frankie!” Gerard dropped the book and rushed to me, eyes full of genuine worry. “Oh, Frankie! Are you okay?” He crouched down to his knees and cupped his shaking hands around my blood-drained face. “You're not hurt, are you?”  
“No, I don't think so,” I shook my head, chills running down my spine feeling Gerard's tender touch on my face. “I'm sorry. I shoulda told you that I have a pretty irrational fear of spiders,”  
“No, don't be sorry. You just really freaked me out, seeing you so fucking terrified! Are you sure you're okay?”  
“Yeah, it's cool. I'll be okay,” I replied, still shaken from seeing the size of that fucking spider. Seriously...that thing scared the living shit outta me.  
“Oh, Frankie…” Gerard stroked his hand on my cheek, brushing my black bangs away from my face. “I don't want you to be scared. I want you to be safe, Frankie. I'd kill every fucking spider in the whole world for you…,”  
“Really?” I laughed. It would be awesome if Gerard was really capable of such a task. That's how much I despise spiders. “You would do that for me-”  
“I’d murder for you, Frankie,” Gerard grinned, hazel eyes seducing yet malevolent. He chuckled under his breath, still stroking my face with his hands that have slaughtered three boys. “I’d kill anyone for you, no matter who it is. Remember that, Frankie. That's how much you mean to me,” he whispered, his face slowly closing in on me. His lips planted a kiss on mine, the nicotine on his as strong as ever. I shut my eyes,my lips being blessed with the touch of his. I’m unsure whether I should feel flattered that he’d do so much for me, or scared, knowing what he’s done in the past...as well as the millions of other things I still may as well not know about him. It still hits me hard every single time realising that I am kissing a mentally disturbed, revenge-obsessed murderer with a dark and murky past, and not just a broken, yet beautiful man.  
_ _ _  
Gerard insisted that we both work on cleaning up the all the trash scattered on the floor rather than dust, to avoid any more encounters with cobwebs and spiders. We relocated to the living room, starting there. With a large plastic trash can near us, we tossed what was garbage and kept what Gerard considered a keepsake, like lost art supplies. As much of a drag cleaning is, getting all sweaty and worn out, I'm completely fine with it, doing it all with Gerard. I could be doing almost anything with him...literally anything with him and be the happiest fucker alive.  
“Hey, I'll be right back,” Gerard sat up, stretching. He turned away and walked down the hall, making his way to the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a leak,”  
“Alright,” I said, occupied with sorting through the heaps of scattered junk in front of me, mainly consisting of clothes that probably hadn’t been washed in ages, the rank stench of mildew strong on them. After chucking pair after pair of dirty socks behind me in a laundry basket, I felt something glass-like touch my fingers, something flat. It feels like a framed picture, like maybe one of Gerard’s misplaced pieces of artwork. I pulled it out of the clothes pile to get a better look; it’s not artwork. It’s an old photograph; specifically, an old family portrait, weathering and discolored from age. I felt my heart skip a beat, quickly realizing the people in the picture: it’s a young child Gerard, who looks no older than maybe four, with his baby brother Mikey and...his daddy and mama, as he calls them. It’s the Way family from so long ago, all together and happy, smiling. They’re all on a sofa in a spacious living room, the little Way brothers sitting in mama Way’s lap, holding them both close to her. She looks so pretty, youthful and loving, her hair a halo of golden blonde locks, her face lightly made-up. Next to her sits her husband, Gerard and Mikey’s father, a tall, humble-looking heavyset man with glasses and slicked-back dark hair. Then, of course, there’s little Gerard and Mikey, both dressed in striped t-shirts and jean overalls, their smiles baby-toothed and gleeful, their eyes both hazel and gleaming joyously. I couldn’t even come close to holding back the tears that began to well up in my eyes. This is Gerard’s innocent days glaring right back at me in this photo. This broken man had a daddy and mama that loved him and his baby brother, cared for them, raised them until that horrid night they were wrongfully snatched away in such a ghastly and devastating way. These two loving parents were taken away from Gerard, and now he’s made an allegiance to make the two culprits pay the price for what they’ve done. They didn’t just murder his parents, but also his whole fucking life. They both ruined Gerard, and I’m the one that’s now supposed to repair him.  
“Hey, whatcha got there?” Gerard emerged from the bathroom, walking up behind me and making me jump a little.  
Oh, no...I can’t let him see this…  
“Oh, nothing,” I blurted out, holding the photo close to my body, shielding it from Gerard’s view. “It’s nothing,”  
Gerard wasn’t buying any of this. I can see it clearly in him. His face just says it all. Fuck me...this isn’t gonna go well, is it?  
“Let me see,” he said flatly, his hand stretched out. “Please,”  
It’s no use hiding it, is it?  
“Alright…” I caved in, sighing as I handed Gerard the photo, dreading what’s probably yet to come. I can already feel it, seeing the drastic change of expression, like a giant slap across the face, one that’s coming from his innocent, long-gone past.  
“Oh my god…” he whispered, his voice muffled under his shaking hand. “It’s…”  
“I’m sorry, Gerard,” I said remorsefully under my breath. I stood up beside him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. “I didn’t want you to-”  
“It’s us...me and-and M-mikey...and...d-daddy...and-and...mama…” Standing there in mourning silence with the photo in his shaking hands, tears ran down his face, dropping right on the glass containing a fond memory in a picture.  
“I’m so sorry,” I said again. “Truly, I am,”  
The photo fell out of Gerard’s trembling hands, dropping to the floor with a loud thump. He didn’t bother to bend down to pick it up; he just continued to stand there with his hands out, silently in tears, gazing down at the photo now at his feet.  
“Here,” I bent down, reaching for the picture. “Let me-”  
“No,” Gerard cut me off, shaking his head. He turned away and stormed into his bedroom, leaving it behind. “No, no, no!”  
“Gerard!” I called out, feeling my heart break once again as I followed him. “Wait a minute!” I ran after him into his bedroom, finding him curled up in a ball on his bed, hiding his sobbing face in his hands, the cries stabbing me right in my soul repeatedly. It’s all my fault. I found that photo, and it made him cry.  
“Daddy...mama!” He whimpered, his body shaking as he laid there in fetal position, his loud and choppy sobs erupting throughout the room. “Daddy, mama, daddy, mama-”  
“Shhhh,” I reached out for him. “It’s okay, Gerard. I’m here-”  
“No!” Gerard flinched away from me, his face contorted with rage and despair. “No, it’s not okay, Frankie! Daddy and mama are dead! They’re both dead! I miss them and I want them back!”  
I don’t know what to say. He misses them that much. They’ve been dead and away from him for so long, and he still misses them dearly. Maybe I don’t have to be there to calm him down and stop him from crying. Maybe now, it’s necessary to let him mourn. That’s what he needs to do. Quietly, I laid down next to Gerard, wrapping my arms around his body and curling up next to him. I don’t think he even took a second to notice me. He just kept crying, his wails loud and still so heartbreaking.  
“Daddy...mama…” he repeated, that familiar childish voice returning. “Daddy...mama...daddy! Mama!” Gerard’s voice grew more and more frantic as he shook uncontrollably, his hands hitting and slapping himself across the face, using it as a punching bag.  
Oh, no...oh God, please, no...not again...why, Gerard, why?!  
“Gerard!” I jumped into action and grabbed onto his arms, daring to not let himself do such a thing to his beautiful self. “Gerard, stop it!”  
“Let me go, Frankie!” Gerard screamed, arms flailing and struggling. “Let go of me!”  
“No, Gerard! Stop hitting yourself right now!” I tightened my grip, frustration and fear rushing through me as I struggled to hold him down. I wrestled him and managed to topple him, my body sitting on top of his, with my bottom over his stomach, my legs wrapped around him. “Why do you do this to yourself? Why do you keep hurting yourself like this? It’s wrong!”  
“No!” Gerard jerked one on his arms outta my grip and slapped me clean across the face, the impact of it leaving my face red and stinging. “Fuck you, Frank! Get the fuck away from me!” His face grew red, his eyes beaming with a mixture of rage and despair, his teeth gritting. I didn’t, though. I stood there silently still sitting over him, eyes wide and dumbfounded, his words slapping me hard in the face like his hand just did seconds ago. He hurt me again…  
“G-gerard…” I choked, barely able to speak. “You just...hit me…”  
I think now that Gerard just stopped and realized the weight of what he just did. His eyes widened, his face contorting to an expression of utter remorse, his lips quivering as he gazed up at me in guilt.  
“Frankie…” he whimpered in the childish voice. “Frankie...I’m so sorry! I’m sorry I hurt you!”  
I woulda ran away like I did last time. But I didn’t. I’m staying down here with him. He needs me. I promised I would never leave him. I promised I would fix him. I never ever go back on my word. I’d be scum if I did, breaking our promise.  
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay, Gerard. I know you didn’t-”  
“No, Frankie!” Gerard refuted, his voice choked from his sobs. “It’s not okay, Frankie! I hurt you again! I let myself hurt you again! Just leave me, Frankie. Leave me and don’t ever come back here!”  
“No, Gerard! I’m not leaving!” I yelled, tightening my grip on his arms again. “I’m not leaving you alone!”  
“Let go of me, Frankie!” Gerard struggled flailing and kicking. “Leave me right now! I don’t deserve you!”  
“No, Gerard! You do deserve me! You need me!” I pinned his arms down to the bed, weakening his defenses against me. “I told you I would fix you, right? I promised you I’d never leave you! Don’t you remember that? I’m not leaving you, damn it! I’m staying right here with you, no matter what,”  
Gerard froze, no longer resistant and combative. Exhausted and still restrained, he stared up at me, his eyes wide and full of shock.  
“Frankie…”  
“Listen to me, Gerard,” I continued, staring down back at him with his body still pinned down the bed. “I can’t leave you. You need someone to help you. You need to stop hurting yourself, living in fear all the time. You need to grow stronger, just like your grandma Elena told you. Do you think that Elena and your parents would be happy seeing you like this, hitting yourself and being all alone constantly? They’d want you to get better. They’d want you to move on and to stop living in the past so much. They’d want you to be well, right? They’d want someone to help you...I want to help you!”  
“Frankie…” Gerard repeated, his eyes tearful. “Oh, Frankie!”  
I laid down on the bed and took Gerard in my arms, his loud cries muffled in my shirt with his face buried in my neck. He held on to me tightly with his dear life, his body still shaking. I ran my hand through his black hair, stroking it.  
“I’m sorry, Frankie!” he sniffled. “I’m so sorry I hurt you like that!”  
“It’s okay, Gerard. I forgive you,”  
“How?” he gazed up at me, his eyes accusing and bewildered. “How can you forgive someone like me? I hurt people, Frankie. I’m a monster for hurting someone that just wants to help me!”  
“You’re not a monster. I know you didn’t mean to do that to me. I know you didn’t do it under malicious intentions. You were angry. You were mourning, and I shoulda let you be, but I didn’t want you to hurt yourself again,”  
“Please don’t let me be, Frankie,” Gerard begged, his eyes giving me that desperate doe-like look. “I don’t want you to leave me alone. I don’t wanna be alone. I take back what I said!”  
“Oh, Gee,” I lifted my hand up and cupped it around his cheek, my thumb wiping away the tears. “I’ll be right here. I’m not leaving you,”  
“Please don’t ever leave me!” Gerard shoved his face back into my neck.  
“I won’t,” I replied.  
“Don’t leave me, Frankie,”  
“I won’t, Gerard. I won’t. I promise,”  
We laid there in silence, our bodies entwined with each other. Fuck cleaning, that can wait. I’m gonna stay here with Gerard. I need to comfort him. I would sing him to sleep, laying here with him in his bedroom. The whole day we spent working our asses off cleaning house, and that’s obviously taken a toll on me. I’m honestly really exhausted and ready to crash. I glanced out the window, seeing that the sun had been replaced with gloomy gray clouds, light droplets of rain tapping on the glass.  
“I’m-I’m scared, Frankie,” Gerard whispered shakily, glancing up at the window with me, seeing the rain.  
“Why, what’s wrong?” I turned to him, stroking my hand in his hair again.  
“Because I hate the rain,”  
“Why’s that?”  
“Because when it rains...it storms, and I hate the thunder. I’m scared of thunder,” Gerard sighed, looking so embarrassed as he confesses his distaste for stormy weather. “It brings back bad memories,”  
“Like what?”  
“Like…” Gerard paused, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now. I’m sorry…”  
“No, it’s okay. I understand. Let’s just lay here, okay? Let’s just sleep,”  
“Alright,” Gerard curled up against my body, resting his head on my shoulder. He shut his eyes, looking so peaceful, just like I want him to be…  
A soft roll of thunder erupted outside off in the distance as the tapping of raindrops on the window grew louder and faster. Gerard gasped, jumping a little, his head perking up.  
“It’s alright,” I whispered, pulling him back in my arms yet again. “It’s okay, Gerard. Just sleep,”  
_ _ _  
The storm grew worse as the night progressed. I laid in Gerard’s bed, unable to sleep. It’s not because of the thunderstorm. It’s because of Gerard, who's also restless, shaking and hyperventilating and tossing and turning constantly, his body drenched in sweat and enraveled in the sheets. Every time the thunder would boom outside, it would make Gerard jump up and gasp, covering his ears with his hands. I’ve tried everything to calm him down. I’ve tried holding him, singing to him, and a fuck ton of other things, but to no avail. Right now he’s still lying close to me with my arms wrapped around his stomach, his back facing me, still trembling and sweating profusely. I don’t know when this storm’s gonna finally subside. It needs to stop, but god knows when the hell that’s gonna actually happen. This can’t go on, not only because I need to sleep so I have enough energy for work tomorrow, but also because it just hurts too much to see Gerard so terrified. He has that resemblance of a small, scared child hiding under the covers, fearing the rumbling and startling sound of the loud thunder. I used to be a little scared of the thunder as a kid, but it was nothing like this. I sat up and looked down at Gerard, who’s curled up in fetal position, sucking his thumb, eyes bulging and mortified.  
Jesus...I really wasn’t ever this bad at all…  
“Gerard,” I said, shaking him a little. He gasped, jumping and turning around to face me.  
“Oh, Frankie...it’s just you,” he sighed. “Thank god. Made me jump like a frog there,”  
Wait a minute...that’s it!  
I’ve got an idea. One that might just help Gerard. I swear, it’s a good idea. So good that there may as well be a giant lightbulb over my head, shining bright and making a ding sound.  
“Come on, Gerard,” I sat up outta bed, stretching. “Let’s go upstairs,”  
“What for?” he asked.  
“You’ll see,” I sang. “Come on, let’s go,” I held my hand out for him, waiting for him to take it. He stared at it, then back at me, then back at the hand, unsure what to do.  
“Come ooooon!” I whined. “Let’s go, Gee. I’ll be right here,”  
“Oh...okay,” Gerard reluctantly took hold of my hand and stood up, getting outta bed. With his hand in mine, I led him outta his room and upstairs to the bathroom. I bent down and started to run some warm water in the bathtub and reached for the bottle of Mr. Bubbles near it, pouring a little in. It wasn’t long before the water soon became engulfed in pink soap suds, the bathtub being filled up in it. I glanced over at Gerard, who looked like he still doesn’t know what on earth is going on.  
“Come on, Gee,” I nudged him. “Why don’t you take a bubble bath to calm down?”  
Gerard didn’t reply. He just continued to stare at me, looking totally confused. It’s not like it really irks me that much to see him so bewildered. Who does take a bath at this time of night, anyway? It doesn’t matter, though. I’m willing to do just about anything to calm him down and stop being so stressed out and scared from the storm outside…  
Outside, the thunder roared loudly, making the house shake a little. Gerard gasped, covering his ears with his hands, huffing and puffing frantically, eyes shut tight. After he was sure it stopped, he then looked back up at me, eyes apologetic.  
“I’m-I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m sorry, Frankie,”  
“No, it’s okay,” I replied, hugging him. “I’m here,” As I stood there with my arms wrapped around Gerard, I glanced back at the bathtub, and noticed immediately something’s missing. I let go of Gerard and opened up the little cupboard under the sink, not taking long to find what I’m looking for. I pulled out Gerard’s little rubber froggy, it’s eyes big and cartoon-like, it’s smile wide and cheeky. I squeezed it, a shrill squeak escaping from it.  
“Here, I found your froggy,” I waved it out to him, his eyes locked on to it. He smirked a little, chuckling dryly.  
“Come on, please, Gee?” I begged. “I swear it’ll help,”  
Gerard continued to stare at the frog, looking as if he’s deliberating his choices. After a painstakingly long time, he looked back up at me, nodding.  
“Okay,” he whispered. He looked around the room, not moving an inch after agreeing to do what I told him. He glanced back at me, looking totally lost, then down at the ground.  
He’s gotta take his clothes off, and he looks too scared.  
“Here,” I reached out for him, offering to help. I stopped, asking myself if that’s even a good idea, seeing him flinch a little away from my hands, much to my fear. For all I know, Gerard coulda experienced something something very horrid and scarring, making him afraid to undress himself, or have someone else do that for him. That could be part of the reason why he seldom bathed himself and changed his clothes.  
“Go ahead,” Gerard whispered, arms above his head. “It’s okay,”  
“You sure?” I asked.  
“Y-yeah...I think so,” he replied, frowning in shame. “Just don’t be too shocked if...you don’t like what you see…”  
I pulled off Gerard’s shirt over his head, feeling my heart sink into my stomach at the sight of his bare upper body. He’s a lot thinner than I thought he was. He’s close to bordering on anorexic, his ribs almost clearly showing through his pale, bruised and scarred skin. I pulled down his pants, seeing that his lower half isn’t any better. His whole body is a canvas of self-mutilation, covered in cuts and bruises. I’m honestly at a loss of words. I sat there, trying to hide my inner devastation at the sight of Gerard’s starved and wounded body. Now I know why Gerard mainly wears baggy clothing; to hide what’s under it. Even what he wore yesterday at the park looked a little too big on him. Now that I think about it, he barely ate anything when we were there for our picnic, maybe like a few small bites of his sandwich. I used to be very self-conscious about my body, hating everything about it. I seldom ate anything and was scared shitless of getting fat. I used to think I was too fat, despite being like a size two. Seeing this is just like my self-loathing teenage past, glaring right back at me.  
“I’m sorry,” Gerard said, hanging his head down. “I knew you’d hate to see this…I’m so ugly,”  
“No,” I replied, putting my hands on his bare shoulders. “Don’t be sorry, Gerard. You’re not ugly. You’re beautiful…” I kissed him on the cheek, which I know for a fact made him blush, seeing him smile as his cheeks turned pink. “I mean it,”  
“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?” Gerard asked.  
“Of course not. I wouldn’t lie to you like that. I really do mean it,”  
“Oh, alright,” he bit his lip. “If you say so, Frankie…”  
I glanced down and noticed that Gerard’s still in his boxers. Uh, oh...this is the hard part. I gave him a “do you mind?” kind of look, to which he reluctantly nodded in approval. I bent down and wrapped my fingers around the waist of his underwear, feeling them shake as my heart raced a little. I slipped them down around his ankles, pulling off his socks as well.  
Good lord…  
I tried not to look too much at his...well, his privates. I know it’s not the right thing to do. Now’s not the time for that. I think Gerard picked up on the awkward look on my face, seeing me trying to be polite not to stare. He smiled a little, his cheeks blushing.  
“Alright,” I said, trying to hide how hot and bothered I must look right now. “You ready to get in now?”  
Gerard nodded, slowly turning to the tub, his toes feeling the temperature of the bubbly water before stepping in and sitting down, his whole body surrounded by the pink soap bubbles. I kneeled down to him and turned off the water, searching for the shampoo and conditioner in the tub. Before Gerard could get himself comfortable, the thunder outside erupted again, loud and crashing. Gerard’s body shook, water around him splashing. He clamped his hands over his ears again, a shrill whimpering sound emerging from his throat, his whole body slightly trembling in fear. He shut his eyes tight, shaking his head.  
“Gerard,” I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s just-”  
“Make it stop,” he begged. “No more, please! No more,”  
“Gerard, it’s just thunder. It’s not gonna hurt you-”  
“I don’t wanna be shocked anymore!” he cried, the same whimper escaping his lips. “I don’t need this therapy! It hurts! It hurts so much! Please, stop it! I swear I’ll be good!”  
Therapy? What’s he talking about?  
“What are you talking about?” I shook him lightly. “Gerard, listen to me!”  
“I swear I’ll be good!” Gerard let go of his ears and smothered his face with his wet hands, his speech distorted and muffled. “I swear I’ll take my meds! I swear I’ll eat so I don’t get the tube up my nose! I swear I’ll shower! I swear I’ll get outta bed when I’m told to! I swear I won’t fight the nurse when she sticks a needle in me! Please, for the love of hell, don’t shock me again! Please, don’t hurt me! Don’thurtmedon’thurtmedon’thurtmedon’t-”  
“Gerard!” I reached over and shook Gerard harder, his head snapping up and turning to me, eyes wide.  
“Frankie…” he whispered, shaking his head in shame. “Oh my god...I’m sorry, Frankie,”  
“Just calm down, Gerard. No one’s gonna shock you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. I’m here,”  
Gerard didn’t say anything. He buried his face in his hands again, his body still curled up as if he’s wishing to hide away from everyone, like he’s already done for so long. I think now I already know why Gerard’s afraid of the thunder, based what he just spilled out to me. It reminds him of getting shock treatment when he was in the loony bin. It has to be, hearing his talk of nurses, meds, and so on. But, who knows? I could be wrong, for all I know. Maybe I should ask…? No, I shouldn’t. Bad idea. It's almost plainly obvious what he’s been freaking out about. I shouldn’t be asking him anything right now. Now’s not the right time. He’s clearly too upset. Right now, I need to focus on comforting him. I’m gonna help clean him.  
I grabbed a cup from under the sink cupboard, along with a bottle of shampoo, conditioner, a bar of soap, and a washcloth. I filled the cup with some water and slowly poured it over Gerard’s head, soaking his hair. I put a little dab of the shampoo in my hand and lathered in in his hair, prompting Gerard to keep his eyes covered to avoid getting any soap in his eyes. I then poured more water over his head, rinsing the shampoo out until all the suds were out. I did the same with the conditioner, leaving it in his hair for a bit to make sure the moisture settles in and makes his hair smooth when it’s dry. As I did, I took the wet washcloth and soap and scrubbed his body with firm strokes, lathering the soap all over him. The whole time, Gerard’s eyes stayed on me, that familiar doe-like look in them. He looks so calm and collected, much more than earlier, but still so guilty and ashamed of himself. As I washed the conditioner out of his damp hair, I noticed he forgot something. I reached behind me and grabbed the squeaky rubber frog, holding it out to him.  
“Here, you forgot this,” I said, squeaking it a couple times. “Here you go,”  
Gerard slowly reached out for the frog, his hands curling around it and taking it into his hand. He gazed down at it, his eyes vacant and nearly lifeless.  
“How’d that song go, anyway? That little song you always sing about being a frog?” I asked. “Come on, Gee. Sing for me, why don’t you? Tell me how it goes!”  
“I’m...I’m a frog dad,” Gerard stuttered, his eyes slowly coming back to life. He smiled, the frog making a loud and shrill squeak in his hand. “I’m a froggy!”  
“There you go!” I exclaimed, smiling to myself, knowing that my plan’s finally starting to work. “Keep going, Gee!”  
“I’m just hopping around...and I’m hopping around...just being a frog,” Gerard sang lightly, now clutching his froggy with both hands. He turned his head to me, his smile wider than before. “Do you like being a frog? Cause I like being a frog! Cause it means I get to live in the water...and jump, fuckin’ everywhere, and hang out with my friends. And hang out with my friends, as a froooooooooooooog!” Gerard swung one of his hands and splashed me, my whole face and shirt now soaking wet. I fell back, covering my face and laughing hysterically as I blindly reached around the room for a towel. The Gerard I know and love is starting to come back to me again, and knowing that makes me so fucking happy.  
“Come on, Frankie!” Gerard cooed. “Join me, why don’t you?”  
“Alright, alright. Just don’t fucking splash me again. You almost got soap in my eye!” I continued to laugh as I dried my face, until I realized what Gerard just told me to do. He wants me to get in with him? For real? If so, then that means...it’s my turn to get naked, right in front of him.  
“Come on!” Gerard pouted. “Get in here already before it gets cold! What are you waiting for?”  
“Alright, hold on, sassy,” I pulled my shirt off, throwing it to the side. Before I could unbuckle my belt, I stopped to look at Gerard, who already looks stunned seeing me topless, his jaw hanging and eyes wide. It’s definitely in his eyes. He is so checking me out right now, and it’s clear as fucking day. I can only imagine how he’ll be when I undress further. I must say, I am pretty nervous right now, taking my clothes off in front of Gerard. I shut my eyes and breathed out, unbuckling my belt and pulling down my pants, kicking them off and peeling off my socks. Then, as quickly as possible, I pulled off my boxers, throwing it aside with the rest of my clothes. I glanced back at Gerard again; his eyes are still locked on to my now naked body, but this time his eyes are even wider, his mouth still ajar.  
“F-frankie…” he stuttered. “Oh my god…,” he turned away and covered his mouth with his hand, his face turning a flushed red.  
“You alright?” I asked, wondering to myself if this even is a good idea. We’re both so hot and bothered right now, seeing each other naked for the first time, but knowing how Gerard can be sometimes, I don’t know if we’re even ready to-  
“Frankie,” Gerard smirked. “Get your little ass in here...right now,”  
Feeling my heart race and my cheeks blush, I smiled as I made my way into the bathtub, stepping inside. Gerard scooched back and prompted me to sit in front of him, his legs spreaded out. I sat down and leaned back into Gerard’s chest, the water feeling tepid compared to the warmth of his body up against mine. He wrapped his arms around me, his hands caressing my sides. I turned my head around to face him, seeing his alluring hazel eyes gazing at me in awe, not shy of that familiar light behind them, his smile tender and so inviting.  
“Gerard...you’re so warm,” I rested my head against his chest, before he suddenly took it and lifted it up to face him.  
“Oh, yeah?” he grinned. “Well, you’re so beautiful, Frankie. You know that, right?”  
“So are you, Gerard. You’re-”  
Gerard cut me off, locking his lips right on to mine. Catching me off guard, I shut my eyes and graciously returned the favor, my lips kissing his smoothly, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through my whole body. Our lips kissed again and again, our mouths growing wider, letting each other in more and more. I ran my fingers through Gerard’s damp black hair, my hand becoming entangled in it as I clutched onto his locks and lightly pulled at them. As I did, Gerard’s teeth bit down on my lower lip lightly, tugging at it.  
Oh, my god...oh, my fucking god, Gerard…  
The blood and adrenaline running through my veins rushed even faster, making me hard, the chills running down my spine growing stronger. I moaned, tugging at Gerard’s hair harder as our kissing deepened, growing faster and more ferocious. Our lips parted briefly, our eyes locked. I shifted my body over Gerard’s, getting up on my knees so I was towering over him, despite the fact that I’m much shorter standing right next to him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly as I continued to look into his eyes. He gazed right back up at me, the same adoring smile on his face, his fingers caressing and dancing over my sides, making them tingle.  
“Holy fuck, Frankie…” he moaned, shaking his head. “Goddamn...you are fucking incredible!”  
“Oh, come on now,” I scoffed, my face closing in on his, our heads touching. “That’s barely touching the tip of the iceberg,”  
“Oh, is it now?” Gerard laughed, his hands squeezing my sides. “We’ll see about that,” He closed the gap separating our lips, and we continued to kiss each other’s lips furiously. I can hear Gerard’s breaths grow heavy, as well as my own. His tongue lodged into my mouth, his hands continuing to run up and down my sides, until they suddenly ran up my back, his fingers clawing into my skin and running back down slowly, then up, and down again. I winced, trying to ignore the sharp pain of Gerard’s fingernails digging into me. It actually feels so good. I don’t mind him playing a little rough. But I think it’s about time I up my game a little bit. I am the one on top, after all.  
I made my way down to the side of Gerard’s neck, kissing it softly again and again. He arched his head back, his agape mouth releasing a smooth moan.  
“Ohhh...oh, fuck,” he uttered, his hands continuing to claw at my back. I continued to kiss and suck at the skin of his neck until my teeth went in and took a nice, rough bite at it.  
“Ahhhh,” he gasped, his eyes wide, then shut tight. His hands fell down to his sides, his whole body still in an erotic ecstasy. “Ohhh...ohh, Frankie…”  
“You liked that a lot, didn’t you?” I sat up, my hand stroking the side of Gerard’s face, seeing him so aroused and relaxed.  
“No...I fucking loved it, Frankie,” he grinned. “That was...amazing,”  
“It sure was, Gee. You ready to get out now?”  
“Yeah. I dunno about you, but that wore me out,”  
We both got outta the tub, drying our bodies off with bath towels. We tiptoed our way back downstairs, hoping to god we didn’t wake anyone up. I can’t even begin how awkward it would feel if that happened, having someone walking in on us while we were...well, doing our thing. After getting changed into pajamas, we climbed back into Gerard’s bed, getting under the covers, our bodies immediately latching on to each other. We wrapped our arms around each other’s bodies, our gazes locked and faces only separated inches away.  
“Frankie,” Gerard smiled. “I feel so much better. The storm’s gone,”  
“It is?” I perked up my head and looked out the small window, seeing that Gerard is right. There are no more raindrops tapping on the glass, as well as no wind or thunder, much to both of our delight. “Oh, thank god,”  
“I know, right? It’s like I almost forgot about it. That bath really did help me,”  
“I told ya so!” I exclaimed, giving myself a mental pat on the back knowing that my plan worked out well after all. “I knew it would help you calm down,”  
“I didn’t think it would, really. I was just so scared, you know? Every time I’d hear the thunder, it would keep reminding me of certain things. Turns out I was wrong. That bath helped me take stuff off my mind. Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard reached out for me and grabbed me into a hug. “Thank you so much,”  
“You’re welcome, Gee,” I accepted his embrace, unable to wipe away the growing smile on my face. We held on to each other for what seemed like ages rather than just seconds. When we separated, I couldn’t help but notice the drastic change of expression on his face, like something’s on his mind.  
“Gerard? You alright?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that…” his voice trailed off.  
“Just what?”  
“I think I should tell you why the thunder frightens me so much, Frankie,”  
“Really?” I asked, playing dumb. I don’t think him telling me the origin of his fear of storms and thunder is really necessary at this point. I kinda already know that now, I’m almost positive. It reminds him of bad memories in the mental institution, likely getting treated like less than a patient there, and more like disposable trash. The thunder serves as a trigger for those foul memories in a way, pretty much. But, then again, what do I know?  
“It's necessary if I tell you, Frankie,” Gerard sighed, an annoyed groan exiting from his throat. “I feel so embarrassed freaking out on you like that. All these flashbacks I've been having are driving me fucking crazy,”  
“No, it's fine, Gerard,”  
“What's fine?” Gerard eyed me skeptically. “The fact I keep having flashbacks?*  
“No, but…” I stopped myself. That came out wrong. “Well, I’m not saying it's fine you're having flashbacks. You need help so you don’t have them anymore. It's just that you don't have to tell me anything about them. I already know,”  
“You do?” The bewildered look on his face intensified, his brows raised. “How?”  
“Because, when you were in the tub freaking out over the storm you kept going on about not wanting to get shock treatment. You kept begging to not shocked, that’d you'd be good for the nurses. You were having flashbacks from when you were in the mental hospital. You were shaking and crying and pleading and I just had to get you to snap out of it,”  
Gerard looked absolutely floored, his mouth wide open. He knows that I now know. I told him everything. He shut his eyes and sighed, completely speechless. He must feel so exposed.  
“You're right,” he said flatly, looking defeated. “That's exactly what it is. You do know,”  
“I'm sorry,” I looked down, feeling kinda guilty for coming off as so confrontational, even though that wasn't my intention at all.  
“For what? You've got nothing to be sorry for. I woulda been sitting here wasting my time telling you everything, had you not spoke up,” Gerard frowned, his gaze withdrawn and sullen. “I really don’t like going into detail anyway, knowing how I was treated there, which was pretty much part of the reason why I had to escape there. Even after all these years of being outta that shithole, it still isn't easy having to look back at such a dark time,”   
“Oh,” I uttered. That's all I can say right now, honestly. “Well...I'm sorry you went through all that there. I can only imagine how bad it must've been there, knowing the kind of place where they kept me,”  
“Frankie, I don't wanna have a little competition on who's had it worse, but...you never ever wanna go to a mental institution for the criminally insane. It's a very, very foul place to be in. Being homeless wasn't even that bad compared to it. For the longest time I thought I was gonna die there, locked up in that godforsaken place,”  
“Well, you're not there anymore. You're free,” I smiled awkwardly in a vain attempt to brighten the mood. “You're here now, with us,”  
“I know, Frankie. I escaped that torture chamber of a place, and now I'm here,” Gerard returned the smile. “I'm here with you,”  
“Hey, Gee,” I said suddenly, thinking of something that I’ve been eager to know. “Speaking of escaping, how'd you manage to get outta that place?”  
“Well,” Gerard chuckled dryly. “Let's just say it took a shitload of disguising, bribing, crawling through air vents, and running for my fucking life, to make a long story short. How's that?”  
Seems legitimate, I guess.  
“Oh, alright,” I nodded. “I see,”  
“It's kinda funny how many times I tried getting outta there. I tried so many different things until I finally succeeded, and some of those ways were not so clever. I remember the very first time I tried escaping, I jumped through a window on the second floor, but all my dumb ass achieved doing that was breaking my foot, and getting thrown in solitary confinement for a long time,”  
“Really? Jesus…” I felt my skin crawl, just thinking what it would feel like to be locked up in a white padded cell, all alone with nothing but your mind, bored to tears with cameras watching your every move. I was lucky enough to not ever be sent there in the psych ward surprisingly, despite how stubborn and defiant I must've been to all the aides and nurses.  
“Anyway, Frankie. Enough of this cuckoo’s nest willy-nilly. It’s giving me a headache,” Gerard shifted in bed, curling up closer to me. “I'm getting sleepy,”  
“Me too,” I smiled, seeing Gerard cling on to me, like always. I wrapped my arm around him, his head resting on my chest. “Sleep well, Gee,”  
“Oh, I sure as shit will,” Gerard brought his head up, seduction just radiating from his gleaming eyes. “Especially after earlier in the bathtub, if you know what I mean. You have no idea how fucking amazing that felt,”  
“Oh, I think I do, Gee,” I smirked back at him, trying to not let myself get too hypnotized by his familiar and mesmerizing gaze.  
“Oh, really?” Gerard sat up, his body pinning me to the bed, like how I was with him earlier in the midst of his psychological crisis. “How's this then, sugar?”  
And, at that moment, was when Gerard went to town on my lips...or my whole body, I should say, feeling his hands lift up my shirt and claw at my skin...and, of course, I love the way it feels, even the way it hurts.


	13. Stitches

The next two or so months consisted mainly of two things for me: working long days and nights at the Tragician and continuing to help Gerard clean out his basement. When we both finally finished, the whole place literally looked barely recognizable, nothing like it was when we first met that fateful night weeks ago. There’s no more trash covering every inch of the floor, or that rank smell of mildew that makes my stomach churn. Everything here is now so clean and organized, it almost looks as good as new. One thing that hasn't changed down here though are the walls, still adorned in Gerard’s artwork that brings the whole place to life. The only walls that are different now are the ones in Gerard's bedroom, his dark and grotesque works now replaced with framed pictures of more comic book sketches and paintings, as well as some band posters here and there, varying from bands like Iron Maiden and The Misfits to Morrissey and The Smiths. I'm not sure if Gerard either got rid of his graphic and morbid sketches or just packed them away somewhere. It doesn't matter though, just as long as I don't see them ever again. I thought of bringing it up to Gerard, asking him what he did with them, but decided not to. It’s best for me to just not think about it, leaving the memories of the pictures in a deep and dark place in my head, daring to not let it cross my mind.  
Gerard and I, both huffing from exhaustion and sporting ragged work sweats, stood in the middle of the now spotless living room, our eyes barely able to fully take in what took so damn long to finally accomplish.  
”We did it, Frankie!” Gerard exclaimed happily, taking me in his arms and lifting me up, swinging me around as he held on to me. “We finally cleaned this place up! Finally!”  
”I know, Gee. We're finally done!” I laughed, despite the crushing feeling of Gerard's binding bear hug. He held me up with his arms tucked under my legs, my arms wrapped around his shoulders, the both of us holding each other close.  
“And you know what, Frankie?” Gerard gazed at me, that familiar lively and heart-warming smile on his face. “It's all thanks to you. It's all thanks to you that I'm not all alone, living in a dark mess. It's all thanks to you I'm not afraid of leaving here anymore. It's all thanks to you that I’ve changed. Thank you, Frankie...for being a part of my life,”  
”You're welcome, Gee,” I whispered, our faces close to each other. I shut my eyes as we kissed, the familiar taste of nicotine on Gerard's warm lips. The butterflies in my stomach began to flutter, chills running down my spine. I planted my hands on Gerard’s warm and blushing cheeks, our lips kissing again and again slowly until we soon stopped, our eyes gazing at one another in complete awe. Seeing Gerard now just completely blows me away, knowing how much he's changed over the past several days. No longer is his pale face covered in bruises, telling a sad tale of fear and self-hatred. His whole body is no longer frail and malnourished, either. He's actually managed to put on a few pounds, thanks to me constantly begging and convincing him to eat more than just a few bites of food. Getting Gerard to eat more was like pulling teeth though, knowing how stubborn he can be. His body is also now in lieu of the scars and bruises, thankfully (at least, for the most part. There are still some marks on him that’ll take more time to fully heal). However, the healing of his physical wounds was the easy part. It's the scars of his past, as well as his psychosis, that's gonna be hard to heal. After all, like Mikey's said, fixing Gerard was never gonna be easy.  
”Seriously, Frankie…,” Gerard set me down, his eyes still on me. “I don't know what the hell I did to deserve someone like you. I never thought I'd be here with you. I don't know what makes you so attracted to me, either. Everyone is high school was repulsed by me and avoided me like the plague if they didn't pick on me,”  
”Oh, come on now, Gee,” I sneered playfully. “You know all those people are dipshits for picking on you. They also have bad taste too, you know. You're fucking gorgeous,”  
”Oh, Frankie, you small fool,” Gerard shook his head, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. “Please don't kiss my ass. You've never even seen me in high school. I was an ugly duckling,”  
”Oh no, Gee. You must’ve looked so cute!” I squealed, despite the not-so-joyful time I actually did stumble upon a photo of a teenage Gerard, seeing his mugshot when I was researching on his foggy past that one day. It’s best for now I pretend I didn't see what Gerard looked like back then, because something tells me he’ll ask how I know, and the last thing I wanna do is possibly trigger Gerard again. I still gotta police how I talk to him, despite him telling me not to. The last episode Gerard had was when he was freaking out about the thunderstorm that one night, more than two months ago. He's starting to get better now...and I really don't wanna fuck that all up.  
”You're the one that's so cute, Frankie. I'm the one that should be considering myself lucky, you know,”  
”No, Gee. I'm the lucky guy!” I whined playfully, taking Gerard's blushing cheeks and lightly squeezing them with my fingers. “You're a pretty little thing, you know? I ain't all that,”  
”Are you insulting my taste now?” Gerard grinned smugly.  
”Well, mine is sure as hell a lot better than yours. Just sayin’,”  
”Frankie!” Gerard sneered, pointing his finger right at my chest, standing over me like a parent scolding their misbehaving child. “Listen here, you little fricker-”  
A sudden knock came from upstairs at the door. We glanced at each other, then up at the door, then back to one another, clearly deliberating who's gonna get it.  
“Frank? Gerard?” Mikey called out from behind the door. “You guys down there?”  
“I got it,” Gerard ran up the stairs, me following right behind him as he opened up the door for Mikey, whose car keys are in his hand, indicating his return home from work for the day.  
“Hey, Mikey,” Gerard greeted his little brother with a welcoming grin. “What's up?”  
“Oh, just got off work. Comic shop’s closed a little early today,” Mikey replied. “I got a question,”  
”What's that?” Gerard asked.  
”Umm...about your guy's cleaning…,” Mikey leered over Gerard's shoulder, peeking down the stairs to the basement. “You guys have been going at it for a while, now. I was wondering since I got off work early that if you guys could use an extra hand, y'know?”  
”That's alright, Mikes,” I smiled, knowing his help isn't gonna be needed now. “We actually already finished,”  
”Really?” Mikey's eyes lit up. “You guys got that whole place cleaned up? Just the two of you?”  
”Yeah, we did, actually,” Gerard said, glancing over at me with a charming smile, making me hot and flustered. “Just me and Frankie,”  
“Oh, that's great, guys. I'm sorry I couldn't help out at all, had to work a lot of overtime, know what I'm saying?”  
“It's alright, Mikey,” Gerard patted Mikey playfully on the shoulder. “No need to wear yourself out, you working two jobs and all,”  
”Oh, okay then…,” Mikey’s voice trailed off, as if he so badly wants to say something, yet something's holding him back.  
”What's wrong, Mikes?” I asked.  
”Well, I'm not sure if I should ask this, but…can I see?” Mikey turned his head to Gerard, seeking his approval. “If you don't mind, that is?”  
Gerard silently looked down at the ground where his black-socked feet stands on, deliberating the big question his little brother just asked him. It is indeed a big question for Gerard; he hasn't let anyone down in his living space for years, except for me, of course. He's cut everyone else out, hiding away in the dark from the outside world they live in. But he's not hiding anymore. He's come from the rock he’s been hiding under for so long, seeing that the world outside of his haven isn't such a bad place after all.  
”Well, Frankie…,” Gerard turned his head over to me. “What do you think? Should we let him in?”  
”Yeah, of course,” I nodded. “But that all depends if that's okay with you, Gee. It's your basement,”  
”Says who, Frankie?” Gerard smiled, taking his hand and ruffling it through my hair, patting my head like a little puppy. I laughed, stunned that I almost forgot how much I love it when he does that to me. He turned his head back to Mikey, the same bright smile on his face “You can come down here, Mikey...to our basement,”  
”Alright!” Mikey exclaimed. “Thanks, bro,”  
Together, me, Gerard, and Mikey all made our way down the stairs to Gerard's new and clean home...or, no; our new and clean home. It boggles my mind how much time I've spent down there with Gerard when I wasn't at work or upstairs with the others. Instead of sleeping up on the futon in the living room, I've been sleeping with Gerard in his bed, and that of course is volumes better, laying next to him with his arms wrapped around me, singing me to sleep every night. Of course, we both get outside a lot with Ray, Bob, and Mikey and all hang out together like we’re all one big happy family, but for the life of me, I just can't believe how close I've become to Gerard, as well as how much he's grown from where he once started, in a very dark, cold, and lonely place. And now, that same place is all clean and has grown brighter with more life, just like the light behind his eyes.  
When we soon made it to the bottom of the stairs with the whole living room in clear view. Mikey gasped, putting both his hands over his wide open mouth, his eyes wide and stunned beyond belief.  
”Oh my god…,” he said. “It...it looks great!” He released his mouth from his hands and gazed all around the new room, his eyes observing in amazed wonder. He paced around the room past the sofa, coffee table and TV and to the small kitchen, now sans of all the dirty dishes and old rotting food that laid there for ages. We followed him down the hall where he briefly peeked in the clean bathroom, then stepped at the door to Gerard's bedroom, closed shut. Mikey turned to Gerard, exchanging him a look seeking his approval.  
“You mind?” He asked, voice full of caution.  
I turned over to Gerard, who looked deep in thought about whether or not to let his brother in his room. That kinda confuses me. The drawings of the bodies are no longer there up on the walls, so it’s not like there's anything in there Gerard's hiding from us, as far as I know (at least, I hope to hell there isn't). Maybe the reason why Gerard is so reluctant to let Mikey in his room is simply because...well, it’s his bedroom. Your bedroom is your personal haven, the place where you go to retire and unwind, where you open up your inner world, away from everyone else. My bedroom was where I spent most of my time if I wasn't at school, work, or hanging out with the few friends I had, and I think it's not hard for many to understand that I absolutely hated it when people came into my room unannounced, especially my parents. I was also very self-conscious about the way my room appeared, which was always not the most presentable, despite not being much of a slob, so friends coming over to my house and in my room was very rare, if not at all. But last time I looked, Gerard's room looked far from unpresentable. It's bordering on perfect, or at least as close as it gets. The fucking place is spotless and roomy as ever, just as nice-looking as the rooms outside of it. Gerard may now be a lot more social and open with everyone else other than just me, but his stubbornness of being so secretive and insecure certainly hasn’t changed much for sure.  
After what seemed like an eternity, Gerard finally looked up, nodding in approval to us with a smile.  
”Alright,” he said, opening up the bedroom door. “Go ahead, Mikey. You can look,”  
I think one thing that the Way brothers have in common with each other is that they're both easily impressed, seeing how blown away Mikey seems to be over something as mere and simple as someone's bedroom, or any room for that matter, seeing how he reacted similarly to everywhere else in the basement just minutes ago. It could be over the countless amount of artwork hanging on Gerard's walls, knowing that Gerard possesses an incredible artistic talent that's certainly not easy to gain. Or, it could be because he's so amazed that his brother has come so far from where he's started so long ago.  
”Holy shit!” Mikey exclaimed joyously, his arms dramatically stretched out in amazement. The statement he just said was so full of pure enthusiasm and energy that there may as well have been confetti blasting all around him. We stood beside him, unable to stifle our bashful grins and laughs seeing Mikey so happily impressed. He turned back to Gerard and wrapped him in a sudden bear hug, which he graciously accepted and returned. “This is awesome, bro! The place looks fucking great! I'm so proud of you!”  
”Hey, don't just thank me, Mikey,” Gerard laughed, his voice muffled in his brother's shirt. “You gotta give Frankie here credit for helping me. It woulda been impossible without him-”  
Before I could receive my thanks from Mikey, we stopped and heard a series of footsteps erupting from outside of the bedroom, followed by a slue of “whoas” and “wows” and gasps of surprise, all coming from what sounds to be like Ray and Bob. An annoyed sigh escaped from Gerard's throat, knowing that more people are coming into his personal space unannounced.  
”Holy smokes, man,” Bob exclaimed, walking in the bedroom with Ray, who's of course clad in feminine attire, with a couple boxes wrapped in his arms. They almost fell outta his hold when his astonished eyes took in the room around him.  
”Well, I'll be damned!” he sang, strutting up to us, struggling to keep the boxes firmly in his arms. “This is just fabulous! Everything's so clean! Was this all your work here, Gerard?”  
All our eyes are now on Gerard, who obviously looks so uncomfortable being in a room crowded full of a few too many people, all the attention on him. His face pulled off possibly one of the most fake and insecure smiles I've ever seen on anyone.  
”Well, no,” he chuckled shyly. “It was me and Frankie. We cleaned this place up together,”  
”Yeah, just the two of us,” I chimed in, coming to an anxious Gerard's aid. “I don’t know if me or Mikey already told you guys, but when me and Gerard got back from Juarez Park that one time, he told me he wanted to clean this place up, so I decided to pitch in and help him out, y’know?”  
”Oh, really?” Ray asked, finally giving in and setting the heavy boxes of who-knows-what on the floor. “I think that explains a lot. That’s why we haven't seen much of you and Gerard lately. That probably also explains why I couldn't find that damned vacuum cleaner!”  
”Oh, right,” I muttered, just realizing that I forgot to return the vacuum cleaner upstairs, which Gerard and I used to clean out the dingy, filthy carpets. “Sorry about that,”  
”Hey, don't worry about it. You guys did a fantastic job down here. I woulda helped out, had I known about it and didn't have to work so much,” Ray paused and gave a sarcastic glare to Bob standing behind him. “unlike Bob here, who sits on his ass day and night,”  
”Oh shut up, Ray,” Bob scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t need your bad vibes, man,”  
”Hey,” Gerard said suddenly, his eyes serious and accusing. “You guys keep all your bad vibes outta here. I'm not interested,”  
”Oh, my bad, Gerard,” Ray replied, holding his hands up in defense. “Forget about that, sweets. We’re all so happy for you and Frank!”  
”Yeah, man,” Mikey added, nodding in approval. “Seriously, you've changed so much since you first came here. You're growing, bro. We’re really proud of you,”  
I don't think Gerard could ever stop himself from wiping off the bashful smile on his face, his cheeks turning a blush pinkish-red. His shy eyes went to the floor at his feet, then over to me.  
”Don’t give me all the credit, guys. It's Frankie here that made all this possible,” he placed a warm hand on my shoulder, hot to the touch under my t-shirt. I smiled back at Gerard, unsure what to say, seeing all eyes on me now. “You're the one that helped me grow, Frankie. If it hadn't been for you...this place would still be a mess. I would still be a mess, but you came along and started to fix me. You're stitching me back together, Frankie,”  
Gerard leaned forward and took me in his arms, holding me so closely. I returned the favor and wrapped my arms around him, my face in his shoulder, breathing in the strong scent of cigarette smoke on him that makes me smile. He is right; I am stitching him back together, the needle and thread in my hand, slowly mending all the broken pieces of him back together.  
”I owe the whole world to you, Frankie. Thanks again, sugar,” he whispered in my ear, his voice soft and oh so sweet.  
”Oh, to hell with it. Group hug!” Ray exclaimed, and with that, him, Bob and Mikey all joined in on me and Gerard's hug, all five of us close together in each other's arms. As I stood there with my friends all around me, I suddenly realized something: Gerard's not the only one here being fixed; Gerard is also stitching me together and fixing me, just not in the same way. I can honestly and wholeheartedly say that I am a much better, more happier person than I was before I met Gerard, and it’s pretty clear why. When I lived out in the streets I never thought in the near future I'd be spending my days with someone I deeply love and care for, working a job that I actually give a shit about that also pays out a decent amount of money. If I were to have never met up with Ray at the bar that fateful night he asked me to move in with him and the guys, including Gerard, I highly doubt I'd still be alive. I woulda very likely killed myself, dying all alone in the cold streets of downtown New York. But instead, I'm here, living with my friends from high school, as well as the man that means so much to me. If only my mom and dad can see where I am in my life now, how far I've come from where they left me. If only they could take one good look at me and be proud of me for once, and accept me for the person that...  
No, Frank. Stop what the fuck you're doing right now!  
I can't think about them right now. I shouldn't even let them cross my mind. I should focus on the now, here with Ray, Bob, Mikey, and Gerard. I don't wanna look back. Gerard helped me build a bridge and get over what they did to me. Those days are over and gone...but they aren't either of those things in my goddamn mind that always likes to play tricks on me.  
_ _ _  
Gerard and I inquired about the boxes Ray was carrying in the house just minutes ago. He told us that they came from a nearby garage sale he and Bob went to, about a few blocks down the road. They picked up some various nick-nacks there, and suggested to us that we check it out. I thought about it and decided that it wouldn't hurt to look; after all, you never know what you'll find at a garage sale, where strangers sell their unwanted junk. That's how I found my first ever guitar for a ridiculously low price, after all. The thing was in great condition too. It's like that old saying: one man's junk is another man's treasure. Mikey declined on coming with, but Gerard happily agreed to tag along with me, hoping to find some second-hand art supplies he could put to good use for his work, or some vinyls for his old record player. Turns out that when we got to the garage sale, his wish was only half-granted; there was unfortunately no art supplies for him, but there was indeed a lot of vinyls there, many of them classic rock n’ roll. He bought a few with some change he found laying around the place when we cleaned out his sofa, while I got myself something I surprisingly wanted to own for a long time - a ukulele. Yes, that's right, I've always wanted to have my very own ukulele ever since high school, but just never really took the time to save up enough money to buy myself one, for some unknown reason. I don’t know what really draws me so much to it, to be honest. Maybe the way it sounds, I guess. Or, it’s the fact that it’s such a cute and neat-looking instrument; it’s like a mini version of an acoustic guitar, pretty much . I also bought a lesson book along with it too, even though learning to play it should be a breeze, since I already know how to play guitar.  
When we got back home, we ended up spending the whole rest of the day checking out our new stuff, with Gerard playing his vinyls on his record player, while I sat on his bed, reading off the lesson book getting acquainted playing my new instrument which, of course, didn’t take long to do at all. I’ve already mastered half the songs in the book, for fuck’s sake. Then, as I flipped through the pages, something interesting came to my eye; on page 34 is a song that definitely brought a smile to my face the minute I saw the title - “Can’t Help Falling In Love” by Elvis Presley.  
Yes! This is perfect. I need to learn to play this on the ukulele. I already know how to play it on the guitar, so learning it here is gonna be a piece of cake. I know I’ll be so proud of myself when I finally know how to play it perfectly, and damn it, I already know who I’m gonna play it to when I do so, because it’s my song to him.  
“I suck at guitar,” Gerard moped, taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand. “I can’t play to save my own life,”  
“This isn’t a guitar, Gee. It’s a ukulele,” I laughed, strumming the strings of the instrument Gerard just wrongly labeled.  
“Well yeah! I know that, Frankie. I wasn’t born yesterday, y’know. I know it’s a fucking ukulele,”  
“Sheesh, calm down, sassy-pants,” I replied, laughing even harder. I swear, if there’s ever such thing as a sass god, Gerard Way would be the one, hands down. “God, Gee. When did you learn to be such a sassy diva?”  
“I dunno, Frankie. Guess that's just how I am. You do know I'm just messing with you, right?”  
“Yeah, I know,” I set the ukulele down, feeling a huge yawn emerge from within me. I laid down on Gerard’s bed, my whole body stretched and sprawled out, my eyes growing heavy with tiredness. I got under the covers, not bothering to even get changed outta my clothes. Today was certainly a long day, finally finishing up with cleaning Gerard's basement and all, and I am fucking exhausted. I need to learn to play that song on my new ukulele soon, though. That’s what I’m gonna do when I get off work. I gotta practice playing, for him. I wanna sing and play my heart out for him because - I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again - I can’t help falling in love with him.  
“Hmmm, someone’s getting sleepy,” Gerard sat up, peeling off his shirt and pants and reaching into his dresser for a pair of pajamas. With my body wrapped up in the blankets of his bed, I sat there with my eyes focused on his naked, beautifully pale and fuller body, all of it seeming to move with grace as he undresses out of his clothes. I don’t care about the unhealed scars and bruises that are still on his body, or the fact that he now has a little extra fat instead of almost none. His body is imperfect, but goddamnit, it’s beautifully imperfect, and I want it all.  
Did I also mention that Gerard has one of the nicest asses I’ve ever seen? Because he really does. It’s that kind of ass that’s just at the right shape, so full and luscious. I could just take my hands and grasp at it’s cheeks, squeezing them under my fingers and-  
“Make room, sugar,” Gerard said, now dressed in a t-shirt and boxers. I scooched over and let him in, his body lying down next to mine and curling under the covers, making us both oh so warm inside and out. He put his arms around me, pushing me closer to him and began to stroke at my black hair, that familiar look of awe clear on his face, and in his eyes.  
“Frankie,” he whispered, pushing my bangs away from my face. “Haven’t I already told you that you are just the most beautiful thing this planet can ever be blessed with?”  
“You are, Gerard,” I replied, smiling as I felt his warm hand caress my blushing face. “You’re a real blessing to this world, and to me...and that makes me so lucky to have you,”  
“I’m not sure if I’m a blessing to the world,” Gerard nodded doubtfully, frowning a little. “I am a killer and escaped mental patient, after all. If anything, I’m anything but a blessing to the world,”  
“But you’re still a blessing to me,” I lifted Gerard’s chin up to face me, his face cupped in my hand. “Remember that, Gee,” I leaned forward and planted a short and sweet kiss on his lips, seeing a smile grow on them as I released him.  
“Just like you are one to me, sugar,” He took me back in his arms, our bodies nearly inseparable from each other. As I once again took in that familiar and strong scent of tobacco on him, I shut my eyes, letting my mind drift off as I felt my sleepiness get the better of me. I love being held like this all the time, being told that I am a blessing to someone’s life, that I am important and meaningful, that someone cares about me. Everyone should be told that, but why does it hit me so much? Is it because no one has ever made me feel that special and good about myself? Is it because prior to all this being with Gerard, I was all alone and left for dead out in the slums for several months? Is it because nobody else besides Gerard, as well as the few friends that I have, have made me feel that way, and that’s not what my mom and dad ever did for me? My friends gave me a sense of belongingness, letting me know someone cares about me, that I am not an insignificant waste of space, that I am not a lonely misfit that juts out like a sore thumb from the artificial society that’s been molded for everyone to fit in. But what Gerard has given me is so precious and beautiful, that it’s hard to put into words. He doesn’t just make me feel special. He doesn’t just make me feel like I’m wanted. He doesn’t just make me feel like I have a meaning in this cruel world. It’s more than just that, yet it’s so simple - he makes me feel like I’m loved...and that’s not what my flesh and blood parents gave to me at all. Love isn’t shaming your depressed and suicidal son for being different. Love isn’t constantly bible-bashing and fear-mongering your son, controlling him like a puppet on strings. Love isn’t throwing your son away for being gay, telling him he’s a sinner and no longer welcome in the home he spent the last how many years growing up in. Love isn’t letting your son fade away out on the cold streets, left with nothing but the clothes on his back and the misery that resides in his empty and broken heart. I am a fool for lying to myself all this time, just realizing the cold and painful truth - my parents didn’t love me. They never did. Just saying those words in my mind already makes my heart feel like it was just stabbed, knowing the full weight of such a devastating yet honest statement. If only my mom and dad could see where I am now, with the person that does provide me with so much love. It may be a different type of love, one that’s not a parent-to-child kind of love, but it’s still love nonetheless. All this time I thought that I put the past behind me, that I was over what happened to me when my parents cut me out, but it’s clear that that’s not true at all. I’m still not fucking over it.  
“Frankie,” Gerard said, my face feeling his sudden yet tender touch. “Sugar, why are you crying?”  
“What?” I furrowed my brow, bewildered. “I’m not crying, am I?”  
“You are,” Gerard wiped my eyes, feeling the warm moisture of the tears I didn’t even acknowledge. Oh my god. Was I really crying like Gerard said, and I didn’t even notice? There was no prelude to it. I didn’t even feel the sting of the tears coming. It just happened. “Tell me, Frankie. Why do you have tears in your beautiful eyes?”  
“I…” I sighed, knowing the full reason why I let myself cry, dreading the moment I gotta spill the beans. “I’m sorry. Something’s just on my mind,”  
“What’s that?”  
“I realized something...something about my parents. They…,” I stopped. I know I can’t do it. I know what’ll happen if I do. I’ll lose it all. There’s no doubt in my mind that’s what’ll happen. I already feel it coming.  
“They what, Frankie?”  
“They...they never loved me,” I felt myself nearly choke saying that dreaded five-lettered word.  
“What makes you say that?”  
“Don’t you already know, Gerard? I told you everything, didn’t I?” Here we go. It’s coming out. I’m losing it, loud and clear, right in front of him. “I told you what they’ve done to me, right? I told you how they made me feel, haven’t I? Don’t tell me you don’t know. They didn’t care about me. They never took the time to say how much they love me. They only cared about turning me into something they can love and appreciate in their eyes, and not let me be myself. They made me feel like I was not important. They made me feel worthless!”  
“Frankie, but-”  
“No!” I screamed, louder than I should have. I am shaking. I am fuming. I am slipping away. “There’s no if, ands, or buts about it, Gerard. I was less than shit to them. They lied to me over and over again. They never fucking loved me. You don’t kick out someone you love outta your own home for being gay. How the fuck can you love someone if you never even show them that you do, Gerard? I never knew what love really was...until I met you, Gerard! I fucking love you, Gerard!”  
Now I really have lost it all. I caved in, burying my face into the chest of the one person that showed me what love is, feeling loud shaky cries escape from my lips. I’m not just crying. I’m fucking sobbing like a baby. I had to let it out, and tell him that I love him, because goddamnit, I fucking do! Now here I am, weak and weeping, clinging on to Gerard for my dear life, yearning for his reassuring and safe embrace. I need it. He needs to hold me!  
“Hold me,” I pleaded, barely able to speak. “Please, hold me, Ger-”  
“Oh, baby!” Like lightning, Gerard did just that. He took me into his arms once again and held me tight, his whole body shaking as much as mine. “I love you too, Frankie!” he exclaimed as he held me, rocking me back and forth in his affectionate embrace. I swear, I can almost hear him beginning to cry, too.  
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling the weight of my guilt for making him cry once again. “I’m still not over it. I’m so pathetic. I’m sorry I made you-”  
“Frankie,” he interrupted. “Just stop. Don’t speak anymore, baby. No more tears in those eyes, please. I’m here,”  
I can’t make the tears go away. I just can’t do it. They won’t stop, no matter how much I try. I stop myself to gain my breath, only to fall right back into the cries and sobs again, the tears pouring from my eyes. I’m sorry, Gerard. I just can’t stop. I can’t stop crying…  
“If I could be with you tonight,” Gerard sang softly, still holding me tight. “I would sing you to sleep, never let them take the light behind your eyes. One day I’ll lose this fight. As we fade in the dark just remember you will always burn as bright,” As he finished, he took my face in both his hands, his lips kissing mine longingly. It was a single kiss, and it made the tears and the crying come to a screeching halt. No, it wasn’t just the kiss. It’s also what he sang that made me stop crying. It’s so beautiful. No, wait. It’s more than that. It’s so beautiful it’s beyond words. It’s his beautiful voice that made it all go away…  
“It’s okay, baby,” he continued. “I’m right here. I will never let them take the light behind your eyes, Frankie. I promise,”  
“Oh, Gee,” I smiled, having a sudden thought. He sang that song for a reason. It’s a part of something, at least I think it is. “That was...oh my god, that was amazing! Is that a part of the song you-”  
“Yes, Frankie. It is,” Gerard nodded. “It definitely is a part of that song I showed you in my notebook. It’s part of that song that didn’t have a name...until now,”  
“What’s it called?” I asked.  
“The Light Behind Your Eyes. How’s that?”  
“I like it, Gee. That’s a great title for it,” It’s true. There just couldn’t be a better name for it. But there’s something about the song I just don’t get, and I gotta ask him.  
“Gerard...what do you mean by ‘lose this fight’? What fight?”  
I dunno if I stumped him or if I just asked him something he doesn’t feel comfortable telling me, seeing the sudden frown on his face. He sighed, almost looking completely defeated.  
“Frankie...it’s a little hard to explain. I’ll tell you later when the time is right, okay?”  
“Alright,” I shrugged, a little disappointed. I’m eager to know, but I guess it shouldn’t hurt to let it be for now. I know he’ll tell me sometime. “Did I forget to tell you that I just love the song so far?”  
“Thank you, baby. I’m glad you do,” Gerard went right back to all smiles, grabbing me and holding me in his arms yet again. With my face in his shirt and my hands in his hair, I breathed in that scent of cigarettes on him, smiling as well as I shut my eyes. Everything about him makes me that way.  
“You know something, Gee?” I said.  
“What’s that?”  
“You’re the light behind my eyes,”  
“Oh, Frankie,” Gerard blushed, his face just inches from mine, our noses touching. “You're the light behind my eyes, too. Always will be. Never forget that, baby,”  
He shut his eyes, and I shut mine as well. Our lips met once again, our kissing making time itself seem to slow down. At least, that's how I always feel when I'm kissing him. I also have these other feelings emerge within me every time I'm so close to him, and damn it, I really feel it now. It’s so strong, much stronger than ever before. My whole body and mind is screaming at me, tempting me to just do it…


	14. Superstar

No, Frank! Don’t even go there! Seriously, who the fuck do you think you are?  
No. I can’t do that. I can’t take advantage of Gerard like that, knowing how fragile he is. Sure, he may be a lot less like that than he was on day one when we first met, but that really isn’t saying much. He’s still so badly broken. I still don’t know everything he’s been through, and god forbid I ever make Gerard lose himself again, being reminded of one of those dark and haunting memories. What we did in the bathtub that one time doesn’t even come close to what I so badly wanna do to him right now. I feel so dirty for even thinking of doing such a thing to Gerard. What kind of person does that make me? A very shallow, disgusting person that thinks with his own dick instead of his mind, wherever the fuck it may be right now.  
“Baby,” Gerard whined, catching me off guard all caught up in my conflicting thoughts. “Sugar, what’s wrong?”  
“Oh, nothing,” I shook my head. “Sorry, kinda spaced off,”  
“I call bullshit on that, Frankie. I know something’s bugging you,” Gerard smirked, throwing his head back and laughing a little. It’s a little unsettling, for some reason. “I may be a little fucking crazy, sure...but I’m not a bumbling idiot,”  
“No, Gerard. I’m serious,” I lied, begging him in my mind to just drop it already. “Really, I’m okay,”  
“Are you sure about that?” Gerard said almost condescendingly, the snide grin still on his face. “Something tells me you’re lying,”  
“No, I’m not,” I fibbed again. “Seriously, Gerard. I’m fine,”  
From the unconvinced look on Gerard’s face, I could easily tell he’s just not buying into what I’m telling him. He shrugged his shoulders, giving the matter a big old “fuck it”, deciding to not press on about it. At least, that’s what I think he’s doing…  
“Alright then, Frankie. Whatever you say,’ Gerard pulled me closer to him, our lips meeting each other’s yet again. I closed my eyes, kissing him back, already feeling the lusty urges inside of me grow stronger, much to my ironic dismay. I can’t let this happen. I need to hold myself back and just keep my horny self on a leash already. I just can’t-  
“Frankie…” Gerard moaned, his lips constantly being smothered against mine as we kissed again and again. “Baby...I can’t take it anymore…”  
“What?” I asked. “What do you-”  
Gerard sat himself up and right on top of me, pinning me to his bed (something he seems to like doing a lot. I guess it gives him a sense of dominance in a way, despite how vulnerable he is deep down). He then threw off his t-shirt, the sight of his bare torso making me just wanna fucking-  
“Here, sugar,” Gerard reached for my shirt and peeled it right off of me, tossing it to the floor. He smiled, leaning back over me with his face just inches above mine, his black tousles of hair veiling above me. “There, that’s better, isn’t it? It was just getting really hot and stuffy in here…y’know? I know what you want, baby...and I wanna give it to you. I can tell you want it so bad. Like I said, I’m not a bumbling idiot. I know things, sugar pop...”  
Holy fuck, Gerard...is this for real? Now you’ve really done it. I just can’t hold back any longer now. No fucking way.  
I cupped my hands around Gerard’s warm face and pulled him up to mine, closing my eyes as we continued to kiss deeply, our breaths growing heavier as each minute went by. I ran my hands up and through Gerard’s smooth hair, clutching at it and hearing him moan through his kissing lips.  
“Mmmm…oh, baby,” he whispered, his hands clawing at the skin my sides, down my chest and to the pelvis, stinging in that same way I love so fucking much, like he’s always done ever since that night in the bathtub. I breathed in deeply, letting out a moan under my breath, feeling the ecstasy of the erotic hurt he’s inflicting upon me.  
“Yes, honey, yes…” I said. “Just like that, Gee. That feels so...ahh!” I flinched, feeling a biting pain at the side of my neck, just below my ear. Gerard is still on top of me, his face buried into my shoulder, his teeth nibbling and kissing the place he just bit me as he continued to dig his nails into my body. I breathed out deeply, loving every second of it. He caught me off guard, and that’s what makes it feel even better.  
“Frankie, baby...you taste so good,” he muttered, licking his lips that are still close to my neck. He took another bite, his hands running up and down my torso. I pulled harder at his hair, my whole body trying to contain itself. I can’t stop moaning and panting. I am sweating so much. I swear I am shaking a little, too. I can feel the blood in my veins rushing so fast. I can barely take it.  
Gerard’s hand snaked down from my chest to my hips, then further down to in between my legs, stroking at the crotch of my pants as his mouth continued to go to town on my neck. He unfastened my jeans and pulled down my underpants, wrapping his hand around my semi-hard cock and caressing it gently. That was when I just could not hold back any longer.  
“Yes, Gee…” I moaned, throwing my head back with my eyes tightly shut. “Oh, fuck. That’s it, Gee. Keep going, hun,”  
“With pleasure,” Gerard inched his face back up to mine, moving back to my lips, one hand around my hardening cock, and the other stroking the back of my head. His strokes are so rhythmic, starting off nice and slow, pre-cum leaking from me more and more as the jerking grew faster, just like our kissing. I don’t know how long this went on, because time seemed to either slow down or come to a complete stop. I don’t care, though. I can never put into good enough words how fucking amazing this feels. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve felt this way, but it’s clear how much I missed it. This goes way beyond what we did during Gerard’s bubble bath that one night so long ago. I can feel myself on edge right now. I know I’m gonna come soon. I can so fucking feel it right now.  
“Oh, honey,” I breathed, our lips still close and kissing. “Gerard, oh my god…”  
“What is it, baby?”  
“Holy fuck, Gerard...I’m gonna...ohhhh!” An orgasmic cry escaped from my lips as I ejaculated, the cum splattering all over my bare chest. I breathed in and out with my eyes closed, smiling and feeling so relieved. I had to let it all out, and that’s just what Gerard helped me do.  
“Did you have fun, sugar pop?” Gerard grinned, his face parting from mine and making it’s way down to my chest, his tongue licking up the mess I made on it just moments ago...or rather, the mess we made together.  
“I sure fucking did, honey. That was amazing!” I think even saying that would be an understatement. It was so much more than that. It was just that good. Too good, in fact. Something tells me this isn’t Gerard’s first time doing this. There’s no way in hell he can be this good if this is his first time (at least, his first time on someone else). Whether or not it really is, it doesn’t matter. I’m not through just yet. I’ve tasted blood, and I want more. My whole body just craves it. It’s my turn, now...and I know exactly what I wanna do, but that’s only if Gerard will let me. “Hey, honey,”  
“Yes, baby?” Gerard sat up next to me, licking his lips clean from the cum he just slurped up off of me.  
“What about you? Did you enjoy all that?” I leaned in closer to Gerard, my hand stroking his hot and blushing cheek.  
“Of course, Frankie. I loved it. Why do you ask?”  
“Because…,” I whispered, kissing his lips softly. “I’m still hungry. I think there’s enough room for dessert,”  
I think I almost burst out into laughter seeing the flustered look on Gerard’s face. His cheeks are as red as tomatoes, his eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. I don’t think it ever dawned on him that I’d come this strong on to him, but he knows that it’s my turn now. I’m ready for round two. I’m gonna blow him away...literally.  
“Holy fuck, Frankie…” Gerard laughed a little, shakily easing himself down on the bed and gazing up at me in awe, my body towering over him. “You’re just...oh my god, you’re fucking-”  
“Shh,” I hushed him, putting my finger over his lips. “Just sit back and relax, honey…” I slid myself outta my jeans and laid myself down on top of Gerard, wrapping my arms around his body and adorning his lips with mine. Not even a minute into us kissing and he’s already moaning and whimpering, his hands grasping and wanting my body, as much as I want his right now. I slowly kissed my way down his face to his neck, then to his chest, to his tummy, and finally down to his hips. I groped at the bulge in between his legs hiding under the fabric of his boxers, massaging it. He’s already getting hard, and I’ve barely even started. I pulled out his dick from under his underwear, starting to stroke and jerk it gently. With his schlong in one hand, I laid back down next to Gerard, our lips meeting each other’s yet again.  
“Oh...oh god, baby...yes,” Gerard muttered under his breath, his head planted down on a pillow, looking so relaxed and peaceful as I kissed him and stroked his hard and throbbing cock. “Don’t stop, Frankie,”  
“Of course I won’t. We’ve only just begun, after all...” I inched my way back to Gerard’s dick, now moist from the pre-cum leaking out of it. I swirled my tongue around it, licking some of it off the shaft, then went in for the kill, wrapping my lips around it, sucking on it just like a popsicle on a hot summer day. I kept on jerking it, making sure to stay in rhythm as my hand stroked faster, the huffs and moans escaping from Gerard growing louder and deeper.  
“Ohhh….ahhh, baby!” he cried out, his hand clutching at my hair. “Keep going, sugar pop--ahhh!”  
I sucked harder and harder, slowly deep-throating his schlong down my throat, making sure to not gag, which is not that easy. Did I forget to mention that it’s at an impressively large size, and that it’s also nice and thick? I may not have had a lot of action like this with other guys, but I can honestly say that he’s got one of the nicest cocks I’ve ever seen. He’s shaking and sweating so much right now, his breaths growing fast and frantic. I know he’s so close to coming right now. I can feel it coming, too. At any second now, he’s gonna explode…  
“Oh, Frankie!” Gerard nearly screamed. “Holy fuck, Frankie. I’m gonna cum, baby...oh, god...fuuuck!”  
And, at that moment, that’s exactly what happened. I tasted the warm, salty cum ejaculating from his cock in my mouth, colliding with my tongue. I gulped it right up, swirling my tongue around him one last time before I released my mouth from him. My whole body crashed right down and back next to him, clinging on to his semi-naked and fatigued body. He seriously looks so worn out after all that fun he just had, just like me. I’m fucking exhausted, but my god, is my body now satisfied.  
“Oh god, Frankie,” Gerard smiled, despite the tiredness clear in all of him. “That was...amazing! You’re amazing, baby!”  
“Just like you, Gee,” I sang, snuggling up next to him, both our bodies hot and sweaty from the action we just had together. “That was so much fun, seriously. Did you have fun?”  
“Yeah, of course I did. It’s just that…” the smile faded from Gerard’s lips, turning into a frown of utter doubt.  
“What’s wrong, hun?” I asked, wanting to turn that frown upside down, as cheesy as that sounds. “Just what?”  
“Oh, nothing, baby,” Gerard shook his head. “I was just gonna say that...I never thought I would ever be with someone like you, Frankie. I never thought I’d ever be able to have times like this with someone like you. Of course, that’s not the only reason I have so many feelings for you, but you know what I’m saying. Before I met you, I thought I was just gonna live my life all alone with nobody to love and be with, and die a lonely man. But here I am, with you,” He took my face and cupped his hand in my cheek, his thumb stroking it gently. “Seriously, I still don’t know how in the hell I even deserve to have someone precious like you. If my younger self knew that one day in the future I was gonna be with you, Frankie, I probably woulda been a much happier person, I think. I thought I was gonna live my whole life forever alone in this basement, but I guess I’m wrong now, aren’t I?”  
“Oh my god, Gee,” I laughed, my face probably so piping hot and red from how much I must be blushing right now. I swear, Gerard never fails to make me feel so flattered and warm inside. “Of course you are! You deserve to be with someone you love. No one deserves to be alone, especially you, honey,”  
“I guess you’re right, Frankie,” Gerard shrugged. Before I could fight with him about the matter and tell him that I know for a fact I’m right, I felt a yawn emerge from within me, as well as my eyes grow heavy. I’m really getting tired...for real, this time. I need to sleep. That’s what my body is screaming at me right now. I laid my head down on Gerard’s bare chest, the sound of his heartbeat loud and clear. It’s so fast. His body still hasn’t fully settled down from what we just did together. I’ll be damned if I’m wrong.  
“Hold up, baby,” Gerard sat up, gently pushing me off as he got up outta bed. I groaned, begging him to just come back to me so I could cuddle with him. I need to be close to him. I wanna fall asleep next to him.  
”But Gee!” I whined. “Come back, honey. I’m getting cold. I wanna sleep with you,”  
”I know, sugar. I know. I wanna sing you to sleep, Frankie. I’ve been wanting to sing this little song to you for quite a while, now...and I think now is a good time,” Gerard pulled out one of his vinyls and placed it on the player, turning it on. As the song “Superstar” by The Carpenters began to play, he came right back to bed, and I clung right on to him before he could have the chance to get under the covers. He smiled, wrapping my body in his arms and pulling me close to his, cradling me so delicately as his hand stroked at my cheek.  
”Sing to me, hun,” I whispered, curling my finger in a lock of his smooth midnight black hair.  
”Long ago, and oh so far away,” he started, his voice not shy of being so goddamn beautiful and breathtaking, just like himself. “I fell in love with you, before the second show. Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear. But you’re not really here. It's just the radio…”  
With my ears once again being blessed with his phenomenal voice, I shut my eyes, letting it lull me to sleep, until Gerard suddenly took my chin in his hand, lifting my head up to face him, his eyes seeming to shimmer in the dark as he continued to sing to me.  
“Don’t you remember you told me you loved me, baby? Said you’d be coming back this way again, baby. Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh baby. I love you…” he paused, leaning his face closer into mine, his lips just inches away from mine. “I really do…,” he whispered, before his lips closed the gap in between us.  
“Oh, Gerard,” I whispered as our lips continued to kiss each other’s over and over again. “I love you too-”  
“Guys?” another voice emerged, followed by the door opening. It’s Mikey.  
Oh, no...oh, fuck! Oh god, please, no-  
“We ordered some pizza, if you guys wanna come upstairs and-”  
“Mikey, wait!” I exclaimed, my whole body jolting upwards as I hid my naked self under the covers of the bed, just milliseconds before Mikey’s eyes came into contact with us. The look on his face was absolutely priceless, as if he...well, just walked in on me and Gerard naked in bed together, of course.  
“Hey, ever heard of knocking?” Gerard exclaimed, his face flushed red with embarrassment as he held the covers up and over his bare body.  
“Oh my god, no!” Mikey cried out, covering his eyes and running right back outta the basement. “Gerard, what the fuck? My eyes! My eyes!”  
I turned back around to look at Gerard, who was no longer blushing now, but instead kicking and screaming with hysterical laughter, which only started to make me laugh just as much. I fell right back down next to Gerard, unable to wipe away the tears from my reddening face.  
Despite the incident that had unfolded just moments ago, I slept like a baby that night, close to the man that showed to me what love truly does feel like.


	15. Stomachaches

About a few weeks after Gerard and I had...well, our deeply intimate moment for the first time, Gerard came down with a bad case of the stomach flu. It all started when we were in bed together one time, and Gerard woke up in the middle of the night, rushing right outta bed and to the bathroom, puking his guts out in the toilet. I of course sat with him the whole time to be there for him, despite just the sight of puking making my stomach churn. The poor thing was shaking so much and was barely able to keep his balance walking back to bed, until he suddenly fell to the floor and threw up again, right on the carpet. That was when I scooped him up in my arms and led him back to bed, giving him a bucket to puke in while I got the mess cleaned up. That’s what the rest of the night consisted of: me scrubbing the carpet and bathroom while Gerard continued to retch into the bucket, his body shivering under the many layers of blankets I provided him with. I am surprised at myself for not getting sick and throwing up as well the whole time. After I finally cleaned up the mess, I gave Gerard a plethora of water bottles to drink and some medicine before I relocated to the couch and slept there instead, knowing that the linens of Gerard’s bed are now likely contaminated with whatever germs got inside of his body. I think what was just as heartbreaking as seeing Gerard so sick and puking was the way he handled it all. Not only was he clearly embarrassed and in pain from the whole thing, but he also looked very guilty and ashamed, as if it were all his fault for becoming ill. He kept apologizing the whole time, guilt-tripping himself for making me go outta my way and sacrifice my needed sleep to help him, knowing that I had work early in the morning. I told him that I’d choose him over sleep, no matter what. I wasn’t saying that just to make him feel better. I truly do mean it. If I had to entirely give up the luxury of sleeping in just to be with Gerard and help him get better, I’d choose to do just that in half a heartbeat.  
Later at sunrise, I called Monique and told her that I’m calling in for a no-show at work today to take care of Gerard (whom to her I just dubbed as my friend. I’m not sure how Gerard would feel if I went around telling everyone he’s my boyfriend or anything like that). She thankfully didn’t fight the matter and told me that she hopes he gets well soon. I then broke the news of Gerard’s sickness to Ray and Bob, then to Mikey, who just so happens to have the day off from work for the whole day. He insisted on helping me take care of Gerard and later ran to the store to get him some more medicine and soup, while I stayed at home and made him some chamomile tea, with Gerard in his bed downstairs, clad in pajamas with the puke bucket at his bedside. While it hurts seeing Gerard so weak and miserable, I like the idea of taking care of him and nurturing him back to good health. There’s just something so cute and precious about it, despite it being kinda gross, dealing with the puke and all. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else but him. That’s just how much he means to me.  
After I prepared Gerard his tea and found him a heating blanket while rummaging through the closet, I headed back downstairs to his room, finding him still shivering and sweating under the covers, his damp hair plastered to his sweaty and pale face, his eyes shut tight as he kept groaning in pain. He turned his head to me and opened his eyes, smiling weakly.  
“Hey, baby,” he muttered, taking the thermos cup of tea I handed him.  
“Hi, Gee. How you feeling, hun?” I asked, setting up the heated blanket for him, plugging the cord into the wall and turning it on.  
“Fucking fabulous, Frankie. What do you think? I feel like shit. My tummy is killing me,” Gerard snorted, taking a sip of his drink, his face contorting to a look of bewilderment and mild disgust eyeing the cup. “What is this?”  
“It’s tea. Chamomile. What’s wrong, you don’t like it?”  
“I want coffee, Frankie,” he pouted, to which I quickly declined to give him, shaking my head. Caffeine is one of the last things he needs when he’s this sick, and the same goes with tobacco. I took away his pack of Marlboros earlier, telling him that he needs to get better before he can continue to slowly kill his lungs, to which Gerard was not pleased with one bit. I wish that Gerard wouldn’t smoke at all, honestly.  
“No, Gee,” I told him. “Coffee’s bad for you when you’re sick, it dehydrates you. Just water and tea for now, okay?”  
“Oh, come on!” Gerard whined, slamming the thermos cup down on his nightstand. “Why do you gotta be so stubborn like this, Frankie? A little coffee isn’t gonna kill me,”  
“It won’t make you get any better, though! You gotta keep drinking water to keep yourself hydrated. That’s why you’re sweating so much, Gerard. You’re dehydrated!”  
“Then why the fuck would you give me tea?”  
“Because!” I hollered, my patience with the sassy and stubborn Gerard starting to vanish. “It’s chamomile tea! It helps you sleep well so you’re not in pain all the time!”  
“It’s gonna take more than just that to get me to fucking sleep, Frankie,” Gerard threw himself back down on the bed, his irritable eyes focused on the bare ceiling. “Might as well drink myself into a goddamn coma. That’s just about the only thing that’ll help me fall asleep,”  
“Oh, no,” I refuted, shaking my head again. “You are not drinking, Gerard. Absolutely not-”  
“Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie! I’m just kidding!” Gerard threw up his hands defensively, clearly looking just as annoyed as I am with him. “What’s gotten into you? Lighten up, okay?”  
“No, you need to lighten up, Gerard!” I exclaimed, pointing an accusing and frustrated finger right at Gerard. “Seriously, enough is enough. I called in at work today to help take care of you. Me and Mikey are both going outta our way to make sure you get better, and here you are being a little prima-donna giving me a hard time. First the cigarettes, and now this, with the tea!”  
I never thought I would ever raise my voice like this to Gerard, honestly. It’s kinda shocking, but I need to put my foot down. Gerard is definitely one stubborn guy, but I’ve been able to put up with it, until now. He was nowhere like this in the beginning (at least, not this defiant). Gerard’s developed this new side to him lately, one that I really don’t like; he’s not just being adorably sassy right now, he’s being a jerk.  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Frankie!” Gerard hissed, slamming his fists down on the bed. “I just hate you coddling me like this, like I’m some poor little fragile thing! It’s just a stomach flu, not cancer or some shit like that! I’ll get better, okay? You’re so sensitive, y’know?”  
“Well, excuse the hell outta me for looking out for you! You’ll one day end up getting cancer and die if you keep on smoking anyway, Gerard! I just wanna help you get better as soon as possible, that’s all! Smoking cancer sticks and drinking coffee isn’t gonna help you get over your flu-”  
“Get out,” Gerard interrupted, his tone of voice ice-cold, looking somewhat defeated with his head hung down. “Just leave now,”  
“What?” I took a step back, clearly floored with how ridiculous Gerard is being right now. “You can’t be serious, Ger-”  
“I said get out!” Gerard hollered, his eyes wide and brimming with anger. That’s when I knew I had to run, which I of course did. I’d be suicidal if I let my dumb ass stay put around him right now. Doing so would just make things so much worse than they are now. I slammed the door shut behind me, hearing more of his disgruntled cries along with a few loud bangs against the wall, making the whole place shake a little. I ran right to the couch and threw myself down on it, taking a deep breath and running a frustrated hand through my hair. One thing that I know for a fact hasn’t changed much is Gerard’s short temper, and that honestly annoys me more than it scares the ever-loving shit outta me. I, unfortunately, have been around too many times like this to know that this is not a sign of one of Gerard’s meltdowns. This here is nothing more than a temper tantrum. I’m 99.9% sure that this isn’t a sign of one of Gerard’s psychotic episodes. If it were, he woulda already started hitting himself, or even me, god forbid. Right now, he’s just throwing a fit. He needs some space and time to calm down, and so do I. Maybe Gerard’s right, though. Maybe I was being a little too sensitive. Maybe I do coddle him too much, honestly. But that’s because I love him that much. I want Gerard to be well. I don’t want him to be sick. I don’t want him to be broken. I don’t want him to die from cancer. Fuck, I don’t want him to die at all.  
I sat up from the couch to find a skeptical and worried-looking Mikey at the bottom of the stairs, a few grocery bags in his hands. Seriously, what is it with him walking in at the wrong time? There’s so many times he’s done that, that I swear you could make trading cards out of all of them!  
“Frank? Is everything alright?”  
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Everything's fine. Gerard's just being a pain in the ass right now,”  
“What happened?” Mikey set down the bags and sat down next to me on the sofa. “He’s not being...y’know, manic, is he?”  
“Oh, no. He’s just throwing a hissy fit because I wouldn't let him drink coffee. He also gave me a hard time for taking away his cigarettes. I told him he needs to stay away from that stuff so he can drink water and tea to get over this flu quicker, you know?”  
“Yeah, I see what you mean. I just hope he's alright,” Mikey glanced blankly down the hall to Gerard's bedroom door, which continued to erupt with bangs against the wall beyond it, mixed with Gerard's loud and agitated cussing. “To be honest, he wasn't really any different than this when we were little kids, when mom and dad were still around,”  
“Really?” I kinda laughed a little in my mind, envisioning a kindergarten-aged Gerard throwing a tantrum while sitting in time out for whatever it is that kids his age do to land themselves in trouble. “I'm honestly not so surprised,”  
“Me neither. It was always Gerard that was the cry baby and the trouble-maker, not me. I was sorta the quiet one that followed him around, like he was the leader. He was like Batman, and I was his side-kick Robin,” Mikey smiled a bit, looking back at the fond memories of his older brother, before their innocence and youth was snatched away from them, along with their parents. “It’s kinda funny that that part of Gerard hasn't changed much, how stubborn and feisty he can be, aside from it being a pain in the ass,”  
“I know. He just needs time to simmer down right now, just wait it out til he falls asleep,”  
“Sounds like a good idea, Frank,” Mikey nodded in agreement. “I'll make him some soup later when he wakes up,”  
“Be careful now, Mikes,” I sang playfully. “He might bitch you out for not making him the chicken noodle soup with the alphabet shaped noodles in it,”  
“Alright, then,” he laughed. “What’re you gonna do?”  
“Not sure yet. Might just take a nap here on the couch and check up on Gerard every once in awhile, take a peek in his room to see if he’s passed out yet,”  
“Alright, then,” Mikey sat up, making his way back upstairs. “I’ll be up in my room. Lemme know if you need anything, okay?”  
“Okay, then. Thanks, Mikes,”  
I let my whole body collapse right back on to the couch, feeling myself sink into the cushions of it, asking myself if I’m even sleepy enough to take a nap right now. I really don’t know. I didn’t sleep very well last night, after what happened with Gerard getting sick as a dog, and me running all over the place for him. I got maybe a measly, unsatisfying four hours of sleep at most, and right now, I don’t feel all that fucking fantastic because of it, especially after the hard time Gerard’s been giving me all morning over his stupid cigarettes and coffee.  
You know what? That’s what I’ll do; I will take a nap, like I told Mikey I would. I need time to unwind. I need to let Gerard recollect himself, and so do I. I will be sure to check up on him later. Because of all the meds he’s been taking for his flu, he’ll sure as shit be asleep sooner or later, like I will be momentarily.  
_ _ _  
It turns out that I really did need that extra few hours of sleep. It wasn’t long before I passed out, lying on the sofa and daydreaming about fuck all. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, realizing what I said I’d do later; I gotta go check up on Gerard. There’s a good chance he’s asleep. But if he isn’t, I’ll still go in and apologize. I was being a little irrational and out of line earlier. I shouldn’t be giving him a hard time when he’s not feeling his greatest. I know I wouldn’t be all smiles and laughs if I was sick as shit. The best I can do is help him and be there for him, and not be a pain in his side.  
I got up and made my way down the hall to Gerard’s bedroom door, lightly tapping on it, seeing if he’ll respond if he just so happens to not be passed out. There’s nothing, just silence. I slightly opened up the door, taking a peek. Turns out he is asleep, after all. But there’s something not quite right with him, with the way he looks. He’s normally still, body wrapped up in the covers, mouth slightly agape and snoring lightly, looking at peace and sleeping like a baby. He looks nowhere like that here, though. He’s tossing and turning, his breaths heavy and labored. He’s still sweating, too. No, he’s not just sweating. He’s sweating profusely, much worse than before. His body is soaked to the bone in perspiration, like he just got done running a marathon. Something’s not right with him.  
“No…” he mumbled, wincing in pain, face grimacing in discomfort. “No, stop it, please…”  
I gotta wake Gerard up. He’s having a bad dream. He has to be, and I gotta get him out of it.  
“Hey, Gee,” I shook his shoulder lightly. “Hey, wake up-”  
“No!” he whimpered, his whole body recoiling into a weak little ball. “Please, no, Jack! Don’t touch me! Don’t hurt me, Mary Ann! please!”  
Jack? Mary Ann? Who are these people?  
“Gerard, wake up!” I leapt up over Gerard, shaking him much harder now, just begging him to wake up already. He’s just gotta wake the fuck up. He has to! “C’mon Gee, snap out of it! You’re having a nightmare! Open your eyes, Gerard! Open your-”  
“No, stop hurting me!” Gerard’s legs under me kicked and flailed, his whole body struggling beneath mine, his hands doing that one thing to himself I just can’t bear to see him do, slapping and beating up his own scared and vulnerable self. “Please stop it, Jack! Leave me alone, please! Stop hurting me! Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop-”  
“Gerard! Wake up!” I cried, shaking him like a ragdoll. “Wake the fuck up! Wake up-”  
My body fell backwards on the bed as Gerard screamed, pushing me off as his body jolted up outta bed and collapsed to the floor, right on his hands and knees. He clenched his stomach with his hand, bile escaping from his mouth and splattering all over the floor and himself. It was at that moment where I had to turn away and cover my eyes, trying my damndest to not puke myself. He kept coughing and dry-heaving, curled up and shaking on the floor for what seemed like hours, even though it was only a matter of seconds before the heaving finally came to a halt, and that’s when I turned back to look at him. Gerard didn’t do anything after all that. He didn’t move a muscle to get himself cleaned up, or even turn to acknowledge me. He just sat there silently next to the pool of vomit, woefully quiet with his head hung down.  
“Gerard?” I called to him, only to be given more of the silent treatment from him. “Gerard? Are you okay?”  
Silence. It’s like he didn’t even hear me. I stood up off the bed and knelt down next to him, trying my best to ignore the mess beside him me made, as well as the one all over his shirt and pajama pants. It’s like to him it’s not even there, seeing how still and mute he is. It’s like to him I’m invisible.  
“Gerard,” I said again, a little louder this time. “Gerard, it’s alright. You just had a bad dream, that’s all. I’m here,”  
Still nothing.  
Ready to just call it quits and give up on looking for a sign from him, I stood up and grabbed a bundle of clean clothes from the dresser, turning back to him as I set them down beside me. He looks so lost and sad, his eyes depressingly vacant. I can’t leave him like this, sitting in his own filth. I’m gonna get him cleaned up again.  
“Come on,” I knelt down to Gerard again, right in front him this time. “Let’s go get you cleaned up,” I held out my hand, just like I did on that night when I first met him here in this very same place, asking him to take it and come with me. All the memories of that night are coming back to me, all so clear. I’ll never forget that fateful night. I go back there every night, without fail.  
“Please?” I asked, my hand still stretched out and waiting for him. He’s gotta take my hand. He’s gotta hear me. He’s gotta know I’m here. He just has to!  
Gerard’s eyes made their way from their hands up to my face, still empty and lacking as much life as his face, dull and expressionless. He then looked back down at my open hand, finally taking it, his grasp shaky and cold to the touch. I pulled him up to his feet with the slight jerk of my arm, taking the bundle of clothes under my free arm and led him outta the bedroom. I switched on the bathroom light, to which Gerard responded by letting go of my hand and backing away from me, retreating to the far corner of the hall outside the room, wincing helplessly as if he’s just been physically threatened.  
“Gerard?” I turned to him, instantly confused. “What’s wrong?”  
“N-no shower,” he stuttered, shaking his head violently side to side. “N-no shower, F-frankie...c-can’t use sh-shower,”  
Oh, fuck. I forgot Gerard’s utter distaste for showering. Why, though? What makes him so repulsed by it exactly? It’s like he’s outright scared shitless of them, seeing him shaking and cowering in the corner. There’s almost no doubt in my mind now that something really terrible happened to him one time involving a shower, making him now avoid them like the plague. I’ll be damned if that’s not the case…  
“Alright, then,” I stepped outta the bathroom. “Let’s go upstairs then, get you a bath. Come on,” I held out my hand again for Gerard, who this time didn’t take what felt like an eternity to accept it, surprisingly enough. In fact, he grabbed on to it like lightning, clutching at it with both his trembling hands, not unlike he’s done before in times of distress like this. Together, we made our way upstairs and to the bathroom. I set down the bundle of Gerard’s clean clothes on top of the toilet, then proceeded to start up the tub with warm running water, followed by putting a pinch of Mr. Bubbles in it, just for Gerard. He can just never have his bath without the bubbles. No way.  
“Oh, hey Gerard! How’s your stomach ache?” Mikey walked in, the smile on his face instantly vanishing the second he got a good look at his brother, seeing his clothes stained in vomit and stenching of it. It almost hurts to see how embarrassed Gerard must look, speechless and forlorn, so much that I think he barely has the dignity to speak for himself what happened.  
“He threw up again,” I said. “Gonna get him washed up,”  
“Oh, okay,” Mikey responded, not at all looking bothered by what I just told him I’d do for his brother. He turned to Gerard. “You alright, bro?”  
Gerard didn’t respond. He just nodded, looking anything but alright, clearly. I can tell Mikey so badly wants to ask him what’s wrong.  
“I’m fine,” Gerard said flatly, his eyes focused down on the floor.  
“You sure, Gerard?” Mikey asked doubtfully. “You want me to make you some soup now?”  
“No, thank you,” he shook his head. Mikey turned to me, looking for more answers. He knows something here isn’t adding up. I can tell. I would tell Mikey more about what happened, with Gerard’s night terror, but that’s really not a good idea. Not in front of Gerard. He’s obviously still so shaken after it. What was going on in Gerard’s head in that dream? Who’s this Jack and Mary Ann he mentioned? I’ve got as many questions going through my head right now as much as Mikey.  
“He’ll be fine, Mikes. He just isn’t feeling too hot,”  
“Alright, then,” Mikey shrugged, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. After the bathtub got filled up with warm and bubbly water, I shut off the faucet and helped Gerard undress, who stood quietly the whole time, apologetic eyes on me, looking lower than a dog. When I took all his clothes off, he didn’t even budge to get his shivering body into the tub. He just kept standing there.  
“Come on,” I motioned to the tub. “Water’s warm. Get in,”  
“O-okay,” Gerard nodded, slowly stepping in. He curled back up into that little weak ball as he sat down, hugging himself, eyes down yet again. I grabbed the cup and Gerard’s squeaky rubber frog from under the sink, proceeding to wet his hair and lather it with shampoo, handing Gerard his little toy in hopes of cheering him up a bit.  
“Here, Gee,” I said, the frog in my hands. “Here’s your friend,”  
Gerard didn’t even bother to look at it. He shook his head, eyes still withdrawn and full of utter sadness. I sighed, setting it down. Something’s really bugging him right now. It’s gotta be that awful dream he had that’s eating at him. He’s gotta talk to me. I need to help him.  
“You wanna tell me what that dream was about you were having earlier?” I asked, washing the shampoo outta Gerard’s hair.  
“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “I’m sorry,”  
“No, it’s fine, Gee. I understand,”  
Jesus. That must’ve been a really horrible dream...maybe like the one I had that one time, with Gerard killing everyone and holding my severed head in his arms. Just thinking about it still gives me the chills, even several weeks later after it happened that night.  
“Thank you,” he said suddenly. “Thank you, Frankie,”  
“For what?”  
“For waking me up,” Gerard smiled, but only a little. “I couldn’t wake up, no matter how hard I tried, but you helped me. You helped me wake up,”  
“Oh,” I smiled back, feeling so touched. “You’re welcome, Gee,”  
He didn’t talk for the rest of the time I bathed him. He kept his head down the whole time, sitting still. He didn’t even touch his frog. After I washed out the conditioner in his hair and the soap suds off his body, I got him all dried off and into his new clean clothes, walking back down to his room with him. Gerard sat back down in his bed under the covers, eyes still withdrawn and full of pure sadness, head still hung down. He’s still not alright. Something’s on his mind. There’s something he’s not telling me here. I still need to help him, damn it. I’m not putting this to rest until I get to the bottom of it.  
“Gerard, what’s wrong?” I asked, kneeling at his bedside. “Are you still really torn up from that nightmare you had?”  
No response.  
“Gerard, it was just a bad dream. That’s all. You know that-”  
“You don’t understand, Frankie,” Gerard’s head shot up, his voice sharp. “You just don’t get it,”  
“Get what?” My brows furrowed. “What am I missing here? You had a really bad dream, and you told me I helped you wake up. Are you sure you don’t wanna tell me anything? Who’s this Jack and Mary Ann you were going on about? What happened?”  
That’s when I think I pushed him over the edge, seeing the tears starting to leak from his sullen hazel eyes. He closed them tightly, looking like he’s trying his hardest to hold them back, but to no avail. It wasn’t long before he gave up, planting his face into his hands, his sniffles and sobs muffled under them.  
“Gerard,” I said, cursing at myself for making him cry again, something I do far too much. “Gerard, I’m sorry! Don’t cry! I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m-”  
“No,” he shook his head. “It’s all my fault!”  
“No, it’s not, Gerard. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything-”  
“Don’t leave me, Frankie!” Gerard clung on to me, holding on to me for his dear life, with his arms nearly suffocating me in his tight embrace. “Please don’t leave me. I’m scared!”  
“Oh, hun,” I took him in, holding him close to me. I laid down next to him in his bed, no longer caring if I catch whatever sickness he has. He needs to be held. “I’m not gonna leave you. I’m here,”  
“You swear, Frankie?” he whimpered through his sobs. “You swear you won’t leave if I tell you?”  
“Tell me what?” I asked, only to be given no response, but more of Gerard’s crying. It’s already starting to eat at me. What does Gerard need to tell me? His silence is killing me! I need to know everything! “What do you wanna tell me, Gerard?”  
“Frankie…” he whispered, his sobs finally coming to a halt. “I never told you, did I?”  
“Tell me what, Gerard?”  
Come on, Gerard. Just tell me. Spit it out. Just fucking tell me already!  
“Frankie...I...I’ve…,”  
“You’ve what?”  
“I...I’ve killed more than just those kids that bullied me in high school. I’ve killed more people than that, Frankie. I really am a fucking murderer,”  
I could’ve sworn when Gerard said those words, I felt myself on the verge of fainting. I feel like I’m gonna throw up. I can’t see him anymore. Everything’s gone blurry. Everything’s spinning. My hands went numb, letting go of Gerard as I fell to the floor, completely frozen in my own crippling fear. The whole world around me is going gray. As I shut my eyes, I felt myself delve into pure darkness, my consciousness slowly slipping away from me. There’s only one thing I can see in this blackness. It’s a figure right in front of me, looming over my paralyzed body. It’s Gerard. It’s the same Gerard from that horrid dream I had, his smile wide and wicked, blood seeping and dripping from his nose. He cackled, my severed head dangling from his hand, my own dead eyes taunting me. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t run away. I can’t move. I can’t even scream.


	16. I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

I woke up under the new and clean covers of Gerard’s bed, groggy and far from fully awake. The first thing that came to my eyes was Gerard, sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed, staring at me. He looks a little bit better, less groggy and sick-looking. He must’ve changed the sheets of his bed for me while I was knocked out cold, to prevent me from catching his stomach flu. He was waiting for me to wake up. How long, though? I gasped and nearly jumped, suddenly remembering what caused me to pass out unexpectedly. Gerard’s body count is higher than just three. He’s killed more people, and he never fucking told me until now. How many more people has he killed? Ten? Twenty? Five thousand? For all I know, he could be a mass murderer. It’s just dawned on me that Gerard has actually achieved serial killer status. From what I’ve learned watching my fair share of crime-related shows like CSI and documentaries about serial killers over the years, the legal definition of a serial killer is someone that’s murdered three or more people, usually for abnormal psychological gratification, and that’s just what Gerard is. I should’ve realized this much sooner. I’m in love with a goddamn serial killer. I really don’t know what to say about this. Who else did Gerard kill? And why? Should I even ask, or will I end up passing out again, devastated by what ghastly things Gerard’s done, whatever they may be?  
“I should’ve told you earlier, Frankie,” Gerard said suddenly, sitting still. That’s literally the first thing he told me. He usually tells me good morning or asks me how I slept, but not this time. I shouldn’t even ask what he’s talking about. I, unfortunately, already know. What should I say? I don’t even know where to begin, for fuck’s sake. It still keeps hitting me over and over again.  
Gerard is a murderer.  
Gerard’s killed more than just three kids.  
Gerard is a fucking serial killer.  
And I’m in love with him…  
“Gerard…” I said shakily. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Because,” Gerard frowned. “I was afraid you’d leave me. I still don’t understand how you could possibly be willing to stay with me, knowing what kind of person I am. Nobody else here knows that I’ve killed more than those bullies. Not Mikey, Ray, or Bob, either. Only the authorities know. They’re out to get me, Frankie. Killers aren’t supposed to be loved. They’re supposed to be feared, Frankie. I’ve killed people in cold blood. I’m a fucking criminal,”  
I need to ask Gerard who else he’s killed. I need to know what he’s been hiding from me all this time. A part of me is just shocked, of course, but another part is mad with him. I know admitting you’ve slaughtered people isn’t the easiest thing to open up about, but I really need to be aware of the person I’ve put myself around all this time (fuck, the person I've been sleeping with, too!). If he’s killed innocent people for his own twisted and fucked up personal gain, how can I in good conscience defend someone that’s done such a thing? What if this whole time Gerard has been telling me what he wants me to hear, and not what he really is deep down? After all, this is the same person that’s killed three high-schoolers over a sketchbook. I need to know more of the man I’ve been trying to fix this whole time.  
“Gerard…” I started, trying my hardest to keep my cool. “Can you tell me who else you’ve killed?”  
He didn’t respond right away. He closed his eyes, deeply breathing in, then back out. He knows he has a shitload of explaining to do. I need to prepare myself too, because who the hell knows what he’s been hiding from me for far too long?  
“I’ve killed four other people when I escaped from the hospital. I’ve killed one of the foster families I used to live with when I was still in high school,”  
“Four people?” I nearly gagged saying those words. Four is too much. One is too much. “Four, Gerard?”  
“Yes, four. Four’s the magic number, Frankie,” Gerard chuckled, letting out that same unsettling laugh that just makes my skin crawl. “Four people that didn’t deserve to live,”  
“Wh-why not?” I can already feel myself shake, the hairs on my neck rise. I can already see the Gerard I know and love vanishing, being replaced with the revenge-obsessed, murderous and psychopathic Gerard that I fear. It’s like there’s more than one person living inside Gerard’s head, like another personality, almost. This is not the Gerard I’m in love with. “What did they do to you?”  
“They all hurt me. They made me feel worthless, just like those fucking bullies. They made my life a living hell, just like those kids did,” Gerard’s voice grew dark, hissing through chattering teeth as his eyes widened with pure anger he’s trying his damndest to hold in. “I had to make them all pay the price. I had to get my sweet revenge on them. I wasn’t gonna let them go unpunished. Justice had to be served,”  
I knew at this point I shouldn’t talk. I’m too scared to, anyway. I’m all too familiar with this side of Gerard, and it still terrifies me. He needs to do all the talking, while I sit back trying to not piss my pants out of utter fear. I wish this side of him never existed. I’m gonna fix him so this side goes away forever, but I only think the only way it really will is if he carries out his plan to murder the last two people on his kill list, two people that I know for a fact deserve to die, the people that killed Gerard’s daddy and mama. I hope I’m right about that. Oh, I hope to fucking god I’m right.  
“Now…” Gerard breathed, seeming a little more calm and collected than he was just seconds ago, simmering down a bit. “I’m gonna take you back to when I was in high school, and tell you how I went about doing what I did to the Richardson family. I want you to listen to me very carefully, Frankie...because all this time...I’ve really dreaded having to tell you about all this, but now, it must be done. There’s no hiding it now,”  
“I’m listening, Gerard,” I gulped, fearing what I’m yet to hear. It’s like that feeling people get when they’re getting ready to sit through a terrifying and gruesome horror film that’s filled to the brim with jump-scares, except this is much worse. This isn’t some movie. This is real.  
“Not long after my grandma Elena passed away, I was sent to live with a different foster family, since I was having issues with the one I was with at the time…,”  
“Why's that?”  
“The home I was living with was full of punks always trying to pick a fight, especially with me, for some reason,” Gerard shrugged his shoulders. “It was just like Trenton, except at the home I was dealing with a bunch of unruly foster kids, instead of criminally insane mental patients. I had no choice but to learn to defend myself there too, just like at Trenton. You just never knew when you were gonna get your ass handed to you. Even if you looked at someone funny, you were in deep shit. I’ve had enough of it, after I've landed dozens of kids in the hospital, as well as myself quite a lot of times. I didn't wanna be stuck in a home where at any day at any time, I'd get pummeled by someone because of...well, whatever. It was like pulling teeth getting myself transferred to a different foster home, until I finally got CPS to do their goddamn job...and that's when they soon sent me to live with the Richardsons...and it didn't take long for me to realize that the last home I lived at was like bliss compared to that godforsaken place…”  
“What made it worse?” I asked, quickly realizing I should keep my damn mouth shut, seeing the bitterly disgusted look growing on Gerard's face.  
“I'm gonna get to that. Really soon,” he sighed. “Anyway, the Richardsons took me in, and I thought at first it was gonna be like a breath of fresh air living there compared to the dump I was staying at before. It was a family of four; a middle-aged couple with two kids of their own, one named Matthew and the other Amy, both of whom were around ten or eleven years old at the time. I thought it would be a blessing for me to be in a home with only two other kids, rather than twenty or thirty like many of the other homes I stayed in… but when I soon picked up on Mr. and Mrs.’s...well, rather extremely religious lifestyle, I knew it was gonna be far from one,”  
I couldn't help but cringe at the mentioning of religion, especially people that take it way too far, just like my mom and dad. At least Gerard can relate to what kind of hell I went through growing up with people like that.  
“The husband Jack was a minister at this local church he and his wife ran. We were forced to go there every Sunday morning, and let me tell you, it was hell on earth. You can only imagine how bad it was, considering the fact you grew up around parents like that, right?” Gerard turned to me, raising an eyebrow.  
“Mhm,” I nodded quickly, still feeling myself on edge. Gerard's barely scraped the surface.  
“Jack and his wife Mary Ann also made us pray constantly, not just at the dinner table, but before bed, and even before showering, for fuck's sake. They watched us like a hawk, and if I ever did anything wrong, like swearing or not doing my chores...it was to the closet I went, or as they called it, the ‘confession chamber’. It was this very cramped room down in the basement, with nothing but a chair and a bunch of religious paraphernalia, like a bible and crucifixes, and that's where I had to sit and 'confess my sins’ for forgiveness. It was a real drag, being in a really tiny and cramped room for god knows how long, bored outta my mind and all; I wasn’t even allowed to get out to use the bathroom. I just had to sit and pray until Jack or Mary Ann decide to finally let me out, whenever they felt like it, really...but that fucking closet wasn't even the worst part ...it was when I was finally let out, where I was taken upstairs...and tied down and beaten,”  
“They'd beat you?” I blurted out, not even realizing it until it was too late. I just can't keep a still face at the thought of someone hurting Gerard. It just makes me sick to my stomach, just like his stomach flu. Now that I think about it, this foster home must’ve been the place where Gerard stayed at at the time when he and Ray first met back in high school. Ray did mention that he always found Gerard with bruises all over his face, like he was being abused back at home or something, and that he never spoke until much later when their friendship deepened. It’s all starting to come together, now. Jack and Mary Ann Richardson are the awful people that did all that to Gerard.  
“Yeah, they would,” Gerard whispered, his somber eyes dark and withdrawn. He went quiet, his whole body seeming to shrink as he went into further detail of the hell he went through. He’s starting to lose his cool, but is struggling to hide it, slowly but surely. Sooner or later he's gonna falter. I know he is. “They would tie me up to a high chair like what a baby would sit in, and make me wear these baby clothes, like a bib and a bonnet...and take turns beating me to a bloody pulp. Even their kids would take turns hitting me, because their parents would make them, or else they’d be grounded...but they obeyed, and they fucking loved it. They’d laugh at me and call me names, like cry baby, because every time this happened, I would cry and beg them all to stop hurting me. It was like that every time I did something bad; spend an eternity in the confession chamber, waiting for my doom. Sooner or later it wasn’t just over being bad; it soon turned into whenever they fucking felt like it. I could be just minding my own business, then I would be suddenly dragged downstairs and punished for no reason whatsoever! When Jack would drag me upstairs to be beaten, I’d beg and plead with him to not hurt me. I remember crying my eyes out every time...I didn’t wanna be tied up in that high chair and beaten again...but I knew all my begging and pleading was all in vain,”  
Feeling my soul being torn in two hearing of Gerard tortured past, I suddenly remembered that one time I tried getting Gerard outta his basement for the first time, when he had one of his episodes and started hitting himself, begging to not be hurt. That was why he was freaking out. He was having a flashback of such a horrid time, being forced into baby clothes and treated like someone’s punching bag, tied up against his own will. The more Gerard goes into detail about what he went through, the more I feel myself wanting to make him stop and hold him tight. I can barely take this anymore. I’m starting to lose myself almost as much as he is.  
“Why didn’t you tell anyone about all this?” I asked. “You didn’t tell any of the teachers at school, or CPS about what was going on? Did you ever try running away?”  
“I wish I did, Frankie. I really regret staying silent, or not running away,” Gerard ran a shaking hand through his hair, trying his best to hold back his inner demons that must be screaming at him right now. “I would’ve narced ‘em, but the problem was...I was so scared. I had a lot of teachers at school notice the bruises on me and ask me what was going on. Even Ray asked me a few times, when we met back then in Monroevile Park. I’d just either avoid the topic or just lie and say I fell. Jack and Mary Ann told me that if I ever did tell anyone, or if I ever tried running away, that they’d kill me and bury me, where I’d never be found. I was terrified, Frankie. I didn’t wanna die. I didn’t wanna let them win. The best I could do was stay silent, and hope to hell that I could escape somehow, without the risk of getting myself killed...”  
“How were you able to get out?” I asked.  
“I’ll get to that soon, Frankie...the beating wasn’t even the thing that pushed me over the edge, even though it should have been...but the beatings weren’t the worst part…”  
Oh, no...I don’t think I’m prepared for this. In fact, I’m far from it. This is far worse than I thought, and Gerard hasn’t even gone into detail how he went about getting his revenge on these vicious scumbags that wear their religion like a fucking garment.  
“It was close to my eighteenth birthday when I think I finally lost it, after what happened this one evening. I even remember the day it happened. It was on Wednesday, March 22nd, 1995…” Gerard shut his eyes and breathed out heavily again, still looking far from ready for what he’s about to spill to me, seeing his intense shakiness that’s clearly visible to the human eye. “It was because of what happened on that very day that I cannot shower anymore. It just brings back too many memories of what Jack did to me while I was showering…”  
“What did he do to you, Gerard?”  
“H-he…,” Gerard gulped, his voice faltering. “He...r-raped me, Frankie,”  
It was at that dreaded five-lettered word where I felt a strong pang in my chest, much like being impaled right through the heart with that horrid word. Now I really feel like I’m gonna throw up, feeling the bile build up in my stomach.  
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, my eyes wide in disbelief, feeling my guts turn to jelly. “He did what to you?”  
“He held me down and fucked me, against my own will. He just walked in the shower, completely naked with an erection, and pinned me down to the ground. He was really big, so there was no way in hell I could fight him off of me. He held his hands around my throat and choked me as he fucked me in the ass. I remember it hurting so much. It was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt in my whole life. It hurt so much that I cried. I cried much harder than the times I was beaten, because that was nothing compared to what Jack did to me in the shower that night…,”  
I am just speechless. I am seriously at a loss of words from what Gerard just told me. What the fuck can I say? He was fucking pinned to the ground and raped by disgusting sub-human garbage, because calling Jack a human is just far too questionable and lenient. He’s a monster, just like the men that murdered Gerard’s parents in cold blood right in front of him. The rest of Jack’s family are no better. They didn’t stop the abuse; they encouraged it. They took part in it. All four of these people were pure evil. But despite Gerard talking about such a dark and scarring thing that happened to him, he hasn’t lost it doing so, like I thought he would. If anything, he’s much more calm and collected than the usual. He may be shaking a little and stumbling on his words here and there, and is clearly not happy talking about the matter, but that’s tame compared to the many psychotic episodes I’ve seen of Gerard going hysterical and hitting himself, crying his eyes out and screaming bloody murder.  
“He told me that there’s no use fighting back,” Gerard folded his hands, his vacant eyes focused on them. “He told me that no one can hear my screams. He told me to just be quiet and let him fuck me. He told me that no one will ever listen to me if I told anyone what he did to me. And that’s true. Who the fuck would believe me? A lot of people looked up to this man and saw him as some kind of fucking messiah. All the neighbors saw him as a good guy, because he’s a pastor. No one knew what was going on behind closed doors. Everyone at the church praised him and his family. They were like a fucked up version of the Brady Bunch. Nobody would take me seriously if I told anyone the kind of person he really is. I grew up being taught that only women can be raped. At least, that’s what society tells us, even today. Men are strong. Men can’t be raped, and if they can, it’s treated like a fucking joke…,”  
It’s not just from the thought of seeing something so depraving and awful being done to someone precious like Gerard that makes me feel miserable, but I’m also sick with myself for having those lusty thoughts of him all this time. I hate myself for letting myself do all that to Gerard that one night, where we did the nasty, me being unaware of what he went through so long ago. He may not have resisted when I made those advances towards him, and he may have lead me on when we were in bed that time, but I still feel like fucking garbage. I am so selfish. I am a fucking fool. If I had known what this monster named Jack did to him, I sure as shit woulda stopped myself from letting my impulses get the best of me. What kind of fucking person am I? A very pathetic one, no better than the people that hurt Gerard.  
“Gerard,” I said suddenly, trying to hold back the tears that are welling up in my eyes. “I’m so sorry,”  
“Don’t be,” Gerard shook his head. “You didn’t do anything,”  
“No, that’s not it. I’m sorry I let myself take advantage of you like that. If I had known what had happened to you, I woulda-”  
“No, Frankie,” Gerard held up his hand, silencing me. “You need to stop right there. Don’t blame yourself for something that’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Besides, whenever we had our intimate moments like we do, Jack or what he did to me has never even crossed my mind. Not once. I’m dead fucking serious,”  
“I know, but-”  
“Frankie!” Gerard raised his voice. “Listen to me. I know what he did to me was horrible, but I’m not gonna sit here and let it ruin me. I’m sick of living in the past all the time. I shouldn’t ever be denied the chance to be with someone all because of something that happened to me a long time ago. People that are raped wanna rise above what happened to them, don’t they? They wanna get over it and move on with their lives. That’s exactly what I wanted to do. I wouldn't ever dare to let my mind compare you to a cunt like him, Frankie. Whenever I’m with you, whenever we are doing whatever in bed, Jack is one of the last things that comes to mind for me. You are a million times better than he is. He’s nothing. You don’t beat and rape people, after all,” Gerard stopped and smiled a little. “Besides, if anything, you’re my savior, Frankie. When I was having that dream earlier, when I was being choked to death and raped in the shower, it was like you ran in and fought Jack off of me, and saved me. You took me in your arms and ran away with me. That’s when I heard you tell me to wake up, and that’s what I did…”  
“Really?” I gasped. “I was in that dream?”  
“Yes, sugar. You were. You helped me wake up. You saved me, Frankie…” Gerard leaned forward and planted a soft and simple kiss on my cheek. I don’t know if I should continue to hold back my tears. There’s no point in it. I really am saving him. I really am fixing him, like I said I would. “Thank you, Frankie. You’re my capeless hero, running away with me in your strong arms,”  
“Oh, Gerard!” I took Gerard in a desperate hug, feeling him jump in surprise as I did, tears running down my face. “You can run away with me, anytime you want, honey,”  
“Of course, baby,” Gerard laughed. “I’d run away with you until the end of days...or until my heart explodes,”  
We stayed in silence holding each other for what felt like ages. I cried the whole time, but I could care less. Gerard is worth crying over. That’s how much I fucking love him. When we finally separated, it was clear for me to see that Gerard is much more at ease now. He’s not shaking anymore. He isn’t finished telling me everything yet, though.  
“After what Jack did to me, I just about lost all hope. I didn’t wanna live anymore. I didn’t wanna suffer anymore. I seriously thought about ending it all many times ever since that day, like maybe hang myself or overdose on pills, or even sneak into Jack’s gun vault and blow my brains out, but it was when I remembered what Elena told me before she died in my arms when I realized that suicide wasn’t the answer…” Gerard breathed, the shakiness in his voice returning. I can see he’s starting to cry, just like how I was moments earlier. “She told me to be strong, even when she’s gone...and that’s what I had to do. I woulda deeply disappointed her if I gave up and killed myself. I didn’t wanna disappoint her, or daddy and mama. I knew they were watching over me. Even now I get the feeling they are. I knew they’d want me to carry on, no matter what life threw at me...so that’s when I decided I had to keep fighting...and that’s what I did,”  
“You’re brave, Gerard,” I said, commending Gerard for making the right choice to not take his own precious life. “I’m happy you didn’t give up. Your mom and dad and your grandma...they’re all proud of you. They’d want you to keep fighting,”  
“I know they are, Frankie,” Gerard wiped at his tearful eyes. “I knew I had to keep fighting, in order to carry out my plan…”  
“What plan?” I asked foolishly.  
“You don’t know, Frankie?” Gerard smirked, the crying and sniffling coming to a screeching halt. “To get my revenge on the two men that murdered daddy and mama...and to also hunt down the Richardsons…”  
Oh, fuck...I think I know what’s yet to come now…  
“I managed to be freed of the abuse when I murdered those bullies on my eighteenth birthday, but I wasn’t gonna let the Richardsons all walk into the sunset unpunished for the hell they put me through. I wanted to make them all pay and feel every ounce of pain I did, and I wasn’t gonna let my life pass me by without shedding their blood. I was sick of seeing their faces in my dreams, and hearing the voices of them laughing at me and taunting me. Counseling and therapy and drugs wasn’t helping me at all. Justice had to be served. Killing them was the only way I can possibly ever fully heal from the scars they’ve inflicted upon me, especially what Jack did to me in the shower that one day,” Gerard’s bloodlusting eyes gleamed as he smiled from ear to ear, chuckling sinisterly. “After I escaped from Trenton, I seeked refuge in this abandoned warehouse, hiding from the authorities as I made a plan to travel to the Richardson’s house and carry out my plan. That warehouse was where I lived for a while, before I had to relocate. To my surprising convenience, it wasn’t that far from the home, so figuring out how to get there wasn’t that hard. I jacked an abandoned vehicle, gathered up the things I needed, and made my way there, in the dead of night…”  
The wicked smile on Gerard’s face stretched even wider, much like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, his wide eyes bloodshot and nearly bulging outta their sockets. He threw his head back and laughed maniacally like a madman, loud and hysterical. This is it. Gerard’s gone into full-out psycho mode, just like I’ve been dreading this whole time. There’s nothing I can do, though. I can’t stop him. All I can do is sit there and watch in horror as Gerard spirals further into his own madness. It’s just like watching a car-wreck in slow motion. It’s nothing short of a tragedy.  
“When I got there, the lights were on, so I had to be stealthy and use the darkness outside to my advantage as much as possible to avoid any suspicious onlooking neighbors, until the time was right,” Gerard continued to chuckle as he spoke, his body slightly trembling and rocking back and forth as he did so. “Lucky for me, the back door was unlocked, so I snuck in through there and upstairs, quietly as possible. When I was outside, I peeked through each of the windows to locate all my targets. Mary Ann was busy in the kitchen cooking, while Jack, Matthew and Amy were all in their bedrooms. I knew where I wanted to start. I had to incapacitate Jack, the strongest of the herd before I could prey on the weaker ones. I was gonna save him for last, for the grand finale. There’s something very special I had in store for him…”  
As much as I resent Jack for the gruesome things he’s done to Gerard, I can’t even begin to imagine the brutality of Gerard getting his revenge on that pig. A very sick, fucked up part of me is thinking up the many ways Gerard could’ve gone about destroying him, like something straight out of a violently graphic torture-porn or slasher horror film, while the much more sane and rational part of me is dreading that moment when Gerard does start to go into detail about it sooner or later.  
“I snuck into his bedroom while he was asleep and knocked him out cold with a chloroform rag. He struggled and flailed for a bit, but it didn’t take long before he passed out, unaware of what I was yet to do to the rest of his fucking family. He was in for a real surprise, let me tell you!” Gerard cackled under his chattering teeth, rubbing and wrangling his hands together, having the resemblance of a comic book super-villain. “So with Jack outta the way for now, I made my way into Matthew’s bedroom first. He was sitting at his computer, wanking off to naked girls on the internet. Oh, the irony. I think his parents would dropped dead if they saw their not-so-faithful son giving into the devil’s temptations, letting his dirty thoughts get the best of him. He didn’t even notice me walk in on him! It was too late for him to run when I swung my bat at him, crushing his skull to pieces. He just fell to the floor, his whole body limp. He had to have died almost instantly upon the impact. It was bitterly disappointing, but at least I had one target outta the way. I bashed his fucking head in a few extra times, just to make sure he’s dead. It had the resemblance of a half-crushed melon, blood and bits of guts and skull fragments scattered about. It was beautiful. It barely looked like someone’s head when I finished,” Gerard paused and looked right into my eyes, that unnerving and manic grin still clear on his face. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here next to Gerard trying my damnedest to hold myself back from puking my guts out.   
“With Amy, however, I got a much better reaction outta her,” he continued, not taking a second to acknowledge how mortified I must look right now. “She walked in the room and screamed, seeing her brother’s head crushed and mushy like roadkill. She tried running, but she was just too fucking slow! It had to be only seconds before I caught up to her and bludgeoned her nearly to death. I hit her in the torso a few times, breaking some ribs and a few other bones, sending her to the floor. That’s when I wanted to spice things up a bit. I didn’t want her to go out the same way her brother did. I needed to have variety, be creative, you know? If I could be creative with my art, then I could also do that with murder. Makes things more fun that way. See, when she was running away, part of the reason she was slow was because she just so happened to wear these stilettos with her dress, like she was getting ready to go to a party or something, and high heels is the last thing you should wear when being chased...so it was all there for me. It was perfect! With her incapacitated body pinned to the floor, I took her stilettos off her feet and gouged her fucking eyes out! It was glorious, Frankie! It was music to my ears hearing her teenage and pubescent screams and cries! I then snapped her neck, killing her instantly. I couldn’t ponder for too long before moving on to the next victim, because I knew Mary Ann would’ve been hearing all the ruckus going on upstairs, so I had to move fast. Those punks deserved to die as much as their parents. They took part in the abuse, doing what they were told to do. They enjoyed hurting me too, the little brats they were. It was either hurt me, or have their privileges suspended, and it was that they found more important. They put their play time over a human being...and that’s exactly why they had to die, Frankie. They had to suffer for what they did to me,”  
The more Gerard went into detail about how he murdered Matthew and Amy, the more I felt myself ready to puke, my insides flip-flopping and recoiling in disgust. The worst part is, it’s far from over. It’s not just the murders that are really unsettling, but the way Gerard describes them all, like telling me a fun little anecdote. It’s like looking at his gruesome drawings of the mangled bodies all over again. He takes pride in what he did to those people, just like when he killed those bullies. He doesn’t have an ounce of remorse, clearly.  
“I think it was Mary Ann that tried to really put up a fight with me, the combative bitch she was. She stormed up the stairs with a kitchen knife, swinging the thing at me. She did manage to slice at me a few times when I struggled with her, but it was nothing more than a few cuts and a little bit of a stab to my upper arm. Nothing serious, but I still do have the scar,” Gerard pulled up the shirt sleeve of his left arm, revealing a long and pale white line of a healed scar just below his shoulder. The fact that I haven't noticed it until now is beyond me. “She was a strong cunt, but not that strong. I managed to knock her out and down the stairs with a few good punches to her big stupid head; I even knocked some of her teeth out. All that time spent fighting off fellow patients at the hospital and kids at previous foster homes really came in handy for me, pretty much. But I wasn't finished with her yet, of course. Far from it. I dragged her unconscious body to the kitchen where she had a pot of hot boiling water on the stove. I didn't even have to take the time to think about how I was gonna finish her off. It was all there set up for me! It was brilliant!” Gerard dramatically threw his arms up in the air in joy, his eyes still gleaming sinisterly with bloodlust, another bone-chilling laugh erupting from him. “I grabbed her by her hair and planted her fucking face right into the water. That's when she woke up and struggled and screamed, just like a live lobster being boiled to death in a pot of scalding water, only here…it was her face, of course! She was barely able to put up a fight with me then, her helpless body struggling under mine. I can't remember how long I kept her face under the water, but it felt like forever until she finally stopped struggling. You should seen what she looked like, Frankie. It was like she barely even had a face anymore! It was a true work of art, her features all red and scalded and disfigured! She was still alive, though. She kept screaming and crying and shifting about in my grip. It's beyond me how in the fuck she was able to live through all that, but hey, that only means I get to play with her some more! I decided to add one more finishing touch to my work, then. I took a knife and carved a beautiful smile, slicing open her cheeks like carving a jack-o-lantern. She died choking on her own blood. People say smiling is contagious, Frankie… and I agree, because when I took a good look at the smile I carved into her fucking face--or what was left of it, at least--I couldn't stop smiling, no matter what. It was that phenomenal, baby. I couldn't do anything to wipe the grin off my face, no matter what. I was so fucking happy to kill that cunt Mary Ann, as well as her shithead kids, and soon her rapist pig of a husband!”  
I don’t know if I can take any of this much longer. Gerard had completely lost himself into hysterics at this point, and I'm feeling so queasy that I'm literally only inches away from puking up my breakfast. I feel like I should run away, away from the lunatic right next to me. But I can't. I'm paralyzed by my own fear, knowing the horrendous things that Gerard is capable of doing to someone. I’m stuck with a man that’s lost his goddamn mind.  
“So, after all that fun, I spent quite a good chunk of time getting the place cleaned up,” Gerard sighed deeply, settling down from the manic state he was in just seconds ago. “It was a real drag, but I knew I had to cover up my tracks. I couldn't waste too much time, though. I still had business to take care of with Jack. So after busting my ass off cleaning the whole mess up, I tied up a still unconscious Jack and threw him in the back trunk of the car, gathered up my things, and made my way back to the warehouse. I had something very special in store for him there. See, before I headed out to the Richardson’s house to...well, do my business, I went out to the town landfill and gathered up some lumber I found there, and with that I made a wooden cross, like what was used to crucify Jesus...and that’s how I wanted to torture Jack, just like his supposed lord and savior. I stripped him naked and hung him up just like Jesus, hammering the nails through his hands and all. Hell--I even made a crown of thorns just for Jack, except this one was made out of barbed wire that I also grabbed from the landfill. It was rusty too, which made it better. It was when I crowned him, he finally woke up, and the first thing he saw was me, of course, but I had something else in store for him--his whole fucking dead family! I hung them all by these big meat hooks. I think I failed to mention that the place I lived at for a while was actually an abandoned slaughterhouse, so having those hooks to hang up the corpses really added a nice touch to the scenery, y’know?” Gerard chuckled dryly, glancing over at me for approval of the murderous and vengeful scheme he went through with years ago. I just cannot react, because I’m still nearly catatonic from what I’ve been hearing come right of Gerard’s mouth; it’s been coming from the mouth of the same man that told me he loves me, after I told him the very same thing.  
“The reaction I got from him was absolutely priceless when he saw the mutilated bodies of his worthless fucking family. He screamed and cried bloody murder, calling out their names like they were actually worth more than shit, which is what they’re all far from of course, just like himself!” Gerard growled, his whole body beginning to shake violently again, tightly clenching his trembling fists. “The motherfucker didn’t recognize me when he saw me, four years later after he violated me! He begged for his life and told me he would give me anything, anything I fucking wanted--money, property--anything! I told him that the only thing I wanted from him was his blood shed, to get payback for all the pain and suffering he’s caused me, and that’s when I think he finally remembered who I was. He kept apologizing to me, begging me for forgiveness and to let him free, but I knew none of that didn’t mean shit. If he really was sorry, he woulda never beat me and raped me. He never woulda ruined me, just like those bullies at Monroeville High did, as well as the two bastards that killed daddy and mama! I of course told him that his apologizing and his begging wasn’t gonna do shit. When I was in the hospital, I kept on having constant flashbacks and night terrors of him beating me to a bloody pulp and forcefully sodomizing me. I couldn’t ever sleep at night without seeing his ugly face just inches above mine, choking me as he fucked me. The only way I could ever move on from all the pain and agony he’s caused me was to make him feel every single ounce of pain I did, and murder him in the most grotesque way imaginable, because goddamnit, that’s what he deserved!”  
I swear that Gerard looks like he’s only inches away from exploding from all the anger and rage fuming from him. He’s rocking back and forth, still shaking and trembling from the rage roaring within him, his hazel eyes wide and bulging, his voice growling and vicious. It’s almost like he’s fucking possessed. In fact, I’m almost convinced he is. He’s possessed by his own revenge-fueled rage and hatred, rooted from his tragic and dark past of abuse and trauma. Then, suddenly, he froze, his head hanging down, with his long black hair veiling over his face. It’s like someone just walked in and pulled out the plug powering the anger-driven and manic Gerard. He has that twisted and unnerving resemblance of a malfunctioning animatronic at somewhere like Chuck-E-Cheese. You know, those demonic-like robotic characters that would make little kids nearly shit themselves and cry to their parents in utter fear? He’s just like that in a way right now, and I must say, it’s really freaking me out.  
“So...you know what I did to him, Frankie?” Gerard suddenly whispered, his voice hoarse. He slowly brought his head back up, his hair revealing his face once again, psychotic eyes and smile still wide. “Hmm, sugar pop? Any idea what I may have gone about torturing him?”  
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, my hanging and quivering mouth unable to stay shut and still.  
“Well...” he cackled uneasily, his hands clawing tightly at his knees as his whole body gradually started to shake again . “In high school, I read up on a bunch of different medieval and sadistic torture and execution methods, and this one in particular caught my eye...it’s called ‘lingchi’, otherwise dubbed as ‘death by a thousand cuts’. It was an ancient Chinese method of execution mainly done to those who have committed treason or fratricide. It involves the criminal being slowly carved to death, gradually cutting off chunks of their flesh until he or she finally died...and that’s exactly what I did to Jack. I sang my heart out the whole time as I cut him to pieces, starting at his pectorals, then his breasts and thighs. His screams and cries of agony were so harmonious and wonderful to hear, baby. It really was. I then severed his hands and feet at the joints, moving up the limbs until they were completely amputated from him. Then, I sliced off his ears and nose, and finally, his genitalia, which I sliced at the slowest. It was so stunning to me he was able to survive through all that. He lived through the whole thing. He never even lost consciousness! That’s what made it even better!” Gerard’s soft cackles escalated to the roaring and maniacal laughs of the madman he is, gasping for air as he became further consumed in his own laughing frenzy. “So, when I cut his manhood clean off of him, I finished him off by shoving it straight into his mouth and down his throat. He coughed and gagged endlessly until he finally croaked, choking to death while committing autofellatio! It was absolutely beautiful, Frankie! I got my sweet revenge on all the Richardsons, and it felt even better than the first time I killed someone, when I got my revenge on those bullies! The high I got killing them all was much stronger than last time! I felt like I was on top of the world, baby! Three cheers for sweet revenge, baby!”  
Gerard’s body collapsed down and sprawled out on the bed, lying face up and nearly motionless. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply, losing his steam from the state of pure hysteria he was in just moments ago. It all wore him out, sucking him dry of all his energy.  
“Well, Frankie…” he breathed. “After all that, I chopped the bodies up to pieces and buried them all, where they’ll never be found. Now you know. I’ve told you everything. That’s how I got my sweet revenge on the Richardsons. I really am a murderer…”  
So, this is it. This is what Gerard has been hiding from me all along. He killed four more people out of revenge, just like the three kids that tormented him throughout high school. Revenge and murder was as essential to him as food and water. Instead of prescription drugs, therapy, counseling, and institutionalization, revenge and murder was the only way he saw fit to be able to heal from the wounds inflicted upon him by some very cruel and sadistic people. With all of that being said, what kind of person does that exactly make him, going about and getting payback on them all in the most grotesque ways possible? This is what he wants to do to Cecil and Irvine, the two people that ruined his life in the very beginning, turning him into the broken madman he is today…  
But, that’s not even the worst part about this whole thing. I’m the one that told this madman that I’d fix him, and be his partner in crime. I told him I would help him hunt down those two people, and because of that, I’m no better than he is. I’m a madman, just like Gerard is.  
_ _ _  
It’s already halfway through the night. So far, I haven’t gotten an ounce of sleep. It’s kinda obvious that I’ve distanced myself a little from Gerard ever since he spilled to me the four murders he’s committed after escaping from the mental institution...and he never told me anything about it, until earlier today. We barely spoke for the rest of the night before retiring to bed; he went about drawing or writing or whatever else along those lines, while I excused myself to the living room and watched back-to-back episodes of some shitty sitcom show on TV. I really hate sitcoms, honestly.  
As insane as it may sound to the average person with a fully functioning brain in their skull, I actually insisted on sleeping with Gerard later that night. It’s not only because his bed is a lot better sleeping on compared to, say, his couch salvaged from the dumpster or Goodwill, or the futon upstairs, but because I’m pretty sure that if I decided not to sleep with him, he’d definitely take a hint that something’s up. The last thing I wanna do is risk upsetting Gerard after how hysterical he was earlier today. He’s right about one thing for sure: he may be a little crazy, but he’s not a bumbling idiot. He knows things.  
It should really come as no surprise that Gerard’s been capable of murdering more people than I thought, let alone is very grisly and sadistic ways, but every single detail of it is now hardwired into my mind. Every single fleeting moment depicting the slaughters of the Richardsons keeps playing over and over in my head, as well as the terrible things done to Gerard by them that made him snap and go about killing them all, and that’s 50% of the reason why I can’t sleep. The other half is because I never knew, for the life of me, that Gerard was really this fucked up in the head. I never knew his maniacal behavior could ever go this far, seeing what unfolded within him right in front of my eyes. I should’ve known from the start how sick he truly is but, come to think of it, would I have gone and done the same thing as Gerard did if all those disgusting things happened to me? Would I go out and get my revenge like Gerard did if I was abused and raped as bad as he was? Another thing I should really be asking myself is if I seriously am willing to help Gerard do the very exact things to Cecil and Irvine as he did to the Richardsons? What if I was? Or, what about if I told him no, and therefore end up breaking the promise I made him? Would that mean I really don’t love him like I’ve told him, or even worse, would that mean risking my own life, knowing how Gerard’s dark side is?  
“Frankie,” Gerard mumbled, his body next to mine shifting in bed. “You awake?”  
“Have been,” I replied.  
“Oh, really?” Gerard flashed me a worried look, stroking my cheek, his face close to mine. “I’m sorry, baby,”  
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage,”  
“You sure?”  
“Sure as shit,”  
“Alright, then,” Gerard turned, his back facing mine as he curled his body curled up into a little ball under the covers. “Sugar...I need to ask you something,”  
“What’s that?” I asked. I guess by the way he’s so concerned he’s having second thoughts about how he acted earlier.  
“Do you...still...l-love me?” he whimpered, stumbling over that four-lettered word. That word sends chills down my spine. Do I really love him, despite the madman he is and all that he’s done? Am I fooling myself if I say yes, or am I just a big fucking liar?  
Yes. I still do love him. I don’t love what he’s done. I don’t love the demons that dwell within him, but I do still fucking love him. After all, he is still broken. I still haven’t fixed him yet.  
“Yes,” I nodded. “I do,”  
“You swear, Frankie?” Gerard turned back to me, inching closer to my body. “You really do?”  
“Yes, I do. I mean it, Gerard,” I said, to which Gerard smiled. He clung on to me, wrapping his arms my body and snuggling up against it, like a little kitten.  
“I love you too, Frankie,”


	17. Get The Gang Together

All throughout my shift at work, I tried to avoid memories of yesterday like a bad habit, but to no avail. I just can’t get over the fact that Gerard was responsible for the murders of four more people. Sure, they were all pathetic pieces of human waste for all the horrible things they did to him, but that still doesn’t take away from the fact that Gerard killed them all, viciously and mercilessly no less. I can still remember in my head every fleeting moment of what Gerard spilled to me, losing himself to his own psychotic madness in the process. What’s also really unsettling was the way Gerard handled the whole matter ever since that time; he pretty much acted like the conversation never even happened in the first place afterwards. Earlier this morning when I was getting ready for work, he was joyously singing his soul out while painting some mural on his easel, looking like the happiest man on the fucking planet. He was happy-looking, alright. Too happy, in fact. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing Gerard happy, but seeing him like that not long after confessing to me about brutally killing his abusive former foster family just doesn’t sit well with me, and it’s not hard to see why that is. I really want to put the memories of yesterday behind me, as much as it’s clear that no matter how much I do, it won’t ever make a difference; Gerard still killed them all. He’s killed seven people in total. Seven fucking people. Seven people that--in his eyes-- deserved to be executed, all at the work of his hands.  
I couldn’t go a single a moment at work without thinking of Gerard; he’s consumed my life that much now. Seeing Gerard has always been the first thing to come to my mind whenever I clock out of work every night. I see his face every night in my dreams, and he’s the first face I see when I wake up in the morning next to him. My whole thought process has consisted of nothing but Gerard Way, Gerard Way, and even more Gerard Way for the past god knows how many days. Now that I know that he really is a killer, I still don’t know how to process all this. I still love him to death, but how in the hell can I live with what he’s responsible for doing in the past?  
When it got close to time for me to clock out, I decided to look at the work schedule for next month since March is coming to a close. I made my way up to the break room after cleaning up the merch booth and took a glance at the printed copies of the work schedule hanging on a bulletin board. As I grabbed myself a copy, something came to my mind; something very obvious that I feel guilty for not realizing sooner. April is around the corner. Gerard’s birthday is in April. Holy shit, he’s gonna be twenty-eight in a little more than a week!  
Yes. This is the perfect opportunity to help me get yesterday off my mind. Me, Ray, Bob, and Mikey will all throw him a surprise birthday party. I know Gerard would love it. It won’t be anything huge, though. I sure as hell don’t plan on inviting anyone else over like what Ray did when he threw me that surprise party months ago congratulating me on my new job. This party for Gerard will just consist of the five of us. The last thing I wanna do is freak Gerard out, being crowded around a bunch of strangers at a birthday party.  
When I got home, I brought up the idea to the guys, with Gerard out of sight. They fortunately all happily agreed to help out. Ray and Bob decided to work on decorating, while Mikey chose to be in charge of getting the food, like snacks and a cake. While all this will be going on without Gerard’s knowledge, I’ll take him out somewhere he’s familiar and comfortable with like Juarez Park and keep him occupied, waiting for a text message from Mikey saying that the party’s all set up and ready. While we were all planning, I had to be sure that Gerard never got a hint about any of it. Not spoiling the whole thing for him is crucial. We also all decided to each get a gift for him too. It didn’t have to be anything pricey, just anything he’d like, like some new vinyls for his record player or some art supplies. We soon all made up our minds on what to get him; Ray and Bob settled on getting him a watercolor painting set, while Mikey decided to get a Batman comic book collection for him. I, on the other hand, had no idea what to get for him, until Gerard helped me make that decision. Over the past couple or so weeks, Gerard has been going on about how much he really wants a pet, specifically a cat. There’s one problem, though: Gerard is allergic to them. Because of that, he decided to settle on something smaller, like a ferret or a hamster. He said that it would be much easier to clean up after, rather than having to constantly clean out a litter box and worry about a cat leaving hairballs all over the place, or worse, droppings. All Gerard would have to do is stay on top of feeding the animal and cleaning up it’s cage regularly. On top of responsibilities coming with having a pet, there’s another issue with Gerard going out and getting himself a furry friend--he can’t step out into the public eye; not with the criminal background he has. Wouldn’t that just be a kinda hilarious, yet sad way for a criminal to get caught? Some known killer one day decides to go out to his local Petco to get a new pet hamster or ferret, only to be put in handcuffs. So, with all the issues surrounding Gerard finding a new ferret/hamster, that helped me decide exactly what to get him. It’ll be perfect.  
On the morning of Gerard’s birthday, I woke up early and went out to the local pet store to get Gerard his new furry friend. I first insisted on getting a ferret, but was kinda bummed out when I learned they were all out. They’re just so adorable and small and wiggly, I could buy myself like five of them. I also couldn’t stop looking at all the puppies that were on sale; I’m a real sucker for dogs. If Gerard is a cat person, then I’m definitely a dog kind of guy. I soon settled on buying Gerard a hamster. I picked out this female one that’s all black with a few white patches on it’s face and tummy. I know Gerard would want the black and white one. That’s the one he’d definitely pick. I know him that well now. Along with the hamster, I got some food and a new cage for her. Before I got home, I texted Ray, who was already up at the time, to hide Gerard’s hamster in his and Bob’s room while we got the party all set up. We all decided it was best to for me to take Gerard out to Juarez Park while the guys were at home getting everything ready.  
It had to be around eleven when Gerard finally woke up, the first thing upon getting out of bed making himself some coffee, of course. He looks so cute freshly awake, walking around the house in his Star Wars t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his long dark hair a lightly ruffled mess. He looks far more adorable than any puppy or ferret in the whole world, so much it always brings a warm smile to my pink and blushing face.  
“Good morning, sunshine!” Gerard exclaimed happily, despite the clearly sleepy look on his face. “The earth says hello!”  
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” I said, suddenly remembering what day it is today. “Happy birthday, honey,”  
“Oh,” Gerard’s eyes widened a bit, laughing. “I’m twenty-eight already? Damn. I almost forgot today’s my birthday! Thanks, baby,”  
When was the last time Gerard celebrated his own birthday? When was the last time anyone celebrated it with him? Hell, when was the last time he’s celebrated any holiday? Christmas and New Year’s for us came and went almost like any other day. We did exchange a few gifts Christmas morning, but other than that, not much else festive. We didn’t even stay up for the countdown on New Year’s Eve. Today is probably the first day in a very long time Gerard has celebrated any holiday, let alone his own birthday. He’s spent the last several years all alone, with no one to celebrate with him. I think that’s what’s gonna make this surprise party very special for him; he’s gonna be surrounded by people that love and care about him, which is something he’s never had for far too long.  
“Hey, Gerard,” I said, remembering what the game plan for today is supposed to be leading up to aforementioned surprise party. “You wanna go do something today? Go to Juarez Park maybe?”  
“Sure,” Gerard nodded. “If you really want to, we can do that,”  
“Yeah, kinda getting a little stir crazy. Been awhile since we’ve been out anywhere, you know?” I said truthfully. I am kinda getting sick of being in this house for most of the day, besides work. A walk through the park with Gerard does sound really good right now.  
“It has,” Gerard poured himself a cup of coffee, motioning to his mug. “A couple cups of this and a bath, then we can go, alright?”  
_ _ _  
While Gerard took his bubble bath, I continued to practice on the ukulele to kill the time. I’ve separated myself from it for too long; I gotta stay consistent with practicing, especially if I wanna surprise Gerard with something a little extra special along with the party we’re gonna throw him when we get back from the park. When Gerard got out and dressed, we took a cab to Juarez Park, the chilly and nippy weather getting the better of me, because like the ADD-minded dummy I am, I forgot to bring my jacket. Gerard, on the other hand, looks more well-prepared, clad in a black leather jacket, a black and gray striped scarf, and dress pants that are also--of course--black.  
“Are you sure you’re not too cold?” Gerard laughed a little, seeing me shivering a little. I don’t wanna make it look like to him I’m a complete idiot, letting the mistake of me forgetting my jacket really get to me, shaking helplessly in the cold. How can an idiot fix someone anyway?  
“I’m fine, really,” I said through chattering teeth. “I’ll survive. It’s not that bad,”  
“No, sugar,” Gerard peeled off his jacket, revealing a black button-down shirt with a black and white-striped tie. He handed me the jacket, his hand waiting for me to accept it. “Here, you need it more than I do,”  
“No, thanks,” I shook my head. “Seriously, I’ll be okay-”  
“Take it, Frankie,” Gerard raised his voice a bit, unable to stifle the laughter in it. “I demand you do. The last thing I wanna see is you suffering and freezing your ass off,”  
I think I really should take it. If Gerard wants me to borrow his jacket, then godspeed to him, I guess. I just really hope Gerard doesn’t suffer from the cold as much as I am right now. I hate to see Gerard shivering. It’s a sad sight for me. Giving in, I grabbed Gerard’s jacket and put it on, immediately blessed with the warmth of it. I love the way it feels, as well as how good it smells. It smells just like him, strong of cigarettes. I used to hate the stench of cigarettes so much, but I now only like the smell of cigarettes because it reminds me of Gerard, of course.  
“Thanks,” I said.  
“No problem, baby. I don’t want you to be cold, that’s all,”  
“But I don’t want you to be cold either, Gee,” I frowned, dreading the moment that time comes, if it ever does, at least.  
“Relax. This isn’t so bad. I can handle it,”  
“If you say so,”  
“Oh my god…,” Gerard suddenly froze dead in his tracks, eyes as wide as golf balls. He gasped, covering his wide open mouth with both hands.  
“What’s wrong, Gee?” I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat.  
“Nothing, Frankie...look!” Gerard pointed a finger over at a small animal sitting perched on the bench under a tree in front of us. It’s a black cat, it’s topaz-green eyes glowing in the shade, mewling and purring softly, all curled up in a little snug ball. Gerard squealed joyously, jumping up and down, having the resemblance of a teenage fangirl at a boy band concert. “Oh my god, it’s so cute! I wanna touch it!”  
“Be careful, Gerard. Aren’t you allergic to-”  
Ignoring me, Gerard darted straight over to the cat, kneeling down and petting it. I’m surprised it didn’t run away from the grown man going crazy over it. It just sat there, welcoming the love and attention it’s being showered with, nuzzling it’s face up against Gerard’s hand.  
“Fucking love cats, Frankie!” he exclaimed. “Cats or get the fuck out, man!”  
“I can tell you really love cats, Gerard,” I laughed, kneeling down next to Gerard and petting the cat with him. I can tell it’s a stray, seeing how dirty it’s fur feels on my hand, as well as how thin he (or she) is. I can only hope that it’s spayed and doesn’t have fleas or anything like that. “But you’re allergic to them, aren’t you?”  
“Yeah, I am,” Gerard muttered, sneezing a couple times. “I don’t care, though. I love them so much. I really wish I can take this little guy home with me,” he sighed remorsefully. “I’ve always wanted to own a pet,”  
“I know, Gee. I know,” I smirked, remembering the new pet I bought for him that’s waiting for him at home. “It’s a lot of responsibility, though,”  
“I know it is. I’d take good care of it, y’know. If I had the money, I think I’d end up turning my whole room into a petting zoo. No one can stop me. Hell, I wouldn't be able to stop myself! I just love animals so much!”  
“Oh my god, Gee. I can tell,” I shuddered at the thought of how much the place would stink of...well, animals. I don’t think I’d be able to keep up with how much cleaning up after them I’d have to do. But if that’s what Gerard wants to do, then good for him. It’s honestly really cute in a way how much affection he has towards animals, much unlike his distaste towards certain humans, and what he’s been capable of doing to them in the past.  
After what seemed like hours of Gerard unable to keep his hands off the cat, it soon stood up and scurried away into the bushes. Gerard waved bye to it, cooing at it like talking to a small child before sneezing a few more times. We then continued to walk further down the road until I felt a vibration in my phone. I pulled it out and saw that it’s a text message from Mikey, telling me that the party’s “fuckin’ ready” (that’s literally what his message to me said. He just couldn’t dropping the F bomb there). We may not have been at Juarez Park that long, maybe like a little more than an hour at most, but I don’t wanna keep the guys back at home waiting for too long. Something tells me that we’ve got a long night ahead of us all; a night to remember.  
“Hey, Gerard,” I said, putting my phone away. “I think we should head back home now,”  
“Really?” Gerard furrowed his brow. “Already? We haven’t been here for that long,”  
“I know, but…,” I gave in. It won’t hurt to let him know that something’s waiting for him at home. “there’s something I wanna show you. I have a surprise for you,”  
“Really?” Gerard’s eyes lit up. “For me? What is it, Frankie? Tell me, tell me, tell me!”  
“You’ll never find out what it is until we get home,”  
“Aww, come on!” he pouted, crossing his arms. “Not even a hint?”  
“Nope,” I shook my head. “Not even a hint. Not until we get home,”  
“Oh, alright,” Gerard huffed. “Okay, let’s go. I’m already dying to know what it is!”  
_ _ _  
Throughout the whole entire cab ride home, Gerard kept begging me to give him a hint of what the surprise back at home is, but I didn’t budge. No matter how much I refused to give in, Gerard kept pleading and whining, like an impatient little kid. We must’ve looked like a couple weirdos to our cab driver that didn’t speak a lick of passable English, but whatever. I really wanna blow Gerard away when he comes home. I really wanna see the look on his face when we all surprise him. I know he’ll love it so much. I can already feel my heart racing as we began to make it to the front door, leading a blinded Gerard in front of me up to it.  
“Come on, Frankie. You can’t just tell me now? I can’t see shit!” Gerard whined, keeping his eyes shut with his hands over them.  
“No, Gee. No opening your eyes til I say so!” I opened up the front door for Gerard, leading him in through the silent darkness of the kitchen and down the hall into the living room, where Ray, Bob, and Mikey are all waiting for us. I flipped the switch, bringing light into the place. “Alright, Gee...now!”  
“Surprise!” they all exclaimed, jumping up from behind the couch and chucking confetti right at us as Gerard opened up his eyes. “Happy birthday, Gerard!”  
Gerard stood there still as a statue, his jaw nearly hitting the ground. He eyed the room that’s covered to almost every inch in party decorations, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the gang, whose heads are each crowned with colorful pointy party hats. He does look surprised, alright...almost too surprised. In fact, he looks shocked, like he just saw a ghost.  
Oh, no...I spooked him, didn’t I? Son of a-  
He smiled, letting out a nervous and shaky laugh that just doesn’t sit well with me for some reason. It’s probably because it sounds almost too much like how he was laughing yesterday, giggling over the memory of him brutally murdering the Richardsons. It’s a laugh that genuinely freaks me out, sending chills down my spine.  
“Ah hah...ah haha...ah hahaha...ah hahaha!” he chuckled, grinning bashfully. “A surprise party...for me?” he turned to me, leaning into my face before planting my lips with a soft kiss. “You shouldn’t have…”  
“Only for you, honey,” I whispered, happily accepting his lips being pressed on to mine. I think Ray, Bob, and Mikey all completely lost it at that moment. There’s no hiding our relationship now. What’s the point, anyway? There’s no harm in them knowing, is there?  
“Oh, come on!” Mikey groaned loudly, shielding his eyes from the sight of his older brother locking lips with another man. I swear Mikey still gives me funny looks after he walked in on us that one night when we were...well, in bed together. “Get a room, guys!”  
“Oh my god! Damn it, Ray!” Bob exclaimed, throwing up his arms up in defeat.  
“Oh, yeah!” Ray cheered. “See, Bob? Fucking called it! I knew it! I knew it all along! Where’s my twenty bucks?”  
As Bob woefully reached into his pocket handing Ray his now lost bet money, Gerard grinned ear to ear and pulled me into a bear hug, nearly suffocating me in his grip.  
“You did all this for me?” he asked.  
“Not just me. It was my idea, but we all did this for you!”  
“Really?” he turned to the rest of the guys. “You all did this for me all along? All of you?”  
“Of course!” Ray exclaimed. “We got you a cake and presents and everything! Me and Bob got this place all prettied up while Mikey went out and got the food!”  
“Yep,” I nodded. “That’s why I wanted to take you out to Juarez Park, so the guys here could get everything set up, y’know? I told you it was a surprise!”  
“Oh my god, you guys…” Gerard smiled tenderly, facing us all. “You guys are amazing. I love you all!”  
“We all love you too, Gerard,” Mikey replied, patting his brother on the shoulder.  
“I love all you guys too!” Ray sang melodramatically. “Fuck it, let’s yuck it up with a group hug!” And with that, we all did, the whole gang together crowded up into a big loving hug-a-thon.  
After all that fun, Ray, Bob, and Mikey all gave their gifts to Gerard, who eyed his new comics and painting set in admiration, going on about how much he’s excited to start making more watercolor paintings and go on a Batman comic book reading binge. That’s when I excused myself to go get my gifts to hand to Gerard, as well as my ukulele. Along with Gerard’s new pet, I have something else special just for him. Something I’ve been working on for weeks now. Something I practiced the hell out of playing.  
“Here you go, Gee,” I said, handing Gerard two boxes, the bigger one covered up in Spiderman-themed wrapping paper, the other that’s simply just a shoebox with holes punched into it. “From me. Open the small one first,”  
“Oh, thank you, baby,” Gerard took both boxes from me, not even strangely eyeing the hole-punctured and unwrapped shoebox. I guess he just loves getting presents that much, no matter how poorly the gift’s box is presented to him. He threw the lid off, his whole face lighting up with utter elation as he looked inside, seeing the little black and white hamster inside, scurrying around. “Oh my god...it’s a hamster! It’s so cute!”  
“Good timing, huh?” I laughed. “You kept going on about how much you wanted a pet, so...I knew just what to get you!”  
“Oh, Frankie! She’s adorable!” Gerard wrapped the little animal in his hands, holding her up to his awestruck face. “I love it so much! Thank you, sugar!”  
“You’re welcome, honey,” I smiled, giving myself a mental pat on the back for getting the right gift for Gerard. With the hamster perched on Gerard’s right shoulder, he seized at the wrapping paper of the bigger box, screaming in joy when he revealed what the gift was: a big, pink hamster cage with built-in play toys like a wheel, as well as a food and water box, just for her.  
“Oh, it’s for the hamster, Frankie! Oh, this is so perfect!” Gerard hugged the box tightly to his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Frankie! This is all so perfect!”  
“What are you gonna name your new friend?” I asked, petting Gerard’s new furry companion, sitting comfortably on Gerard’s shoulder. It’s like they’re meant to be buddies, and it’s so cute to see.  
“I think I’m gonna call her...Lola!” Gerard patted the hamster on the head. “She’ll be named Lola. How’s that?”  
“That’s a great name. I’m glad you like her,” I stood up, holding up a hand to Gerard as I prepared myself to give my final gift to the birthday boy. “Wait here, Gee. I have one last thing for you,”  
“Oh, really?” Gerard gasped. “What is it?”  
“You’ll see in a bit. I need everyone to be quiet, though,” I walked over to the couch and grabbed my little ukulele case, pulling out my prized musical possession.  
“Okay!” Gerard turned to Ray, Bob, and Mikey, who are all crowding around Lola still perched on his shoulder like a parrot. “Shush, guys! Frankie says you all gotta be quiet!”  
“I’m gonna play a little song for you, Gee,” I said, readying the instrument in my arms, getting it tuned. I really hope that I am prepared. I should be prepared. I am shaking and sweating though, and my heart is racing. I was right. I really am not one to play in front of others. But I gotta do it. I’m gonna do it just for Gerard, the man I can’t help falling in love with. “I’ve been wanting to play this to you for a while,”  
“I’m ready, sugar,” Gerard grinned, the whole place growing quiet.  
Alright, Frank. This is it. You can do this. Just breathe. Just fucking breathe and count to three. One...two...three…  
“Wise men say, only fools rush in,” I started, strumming the notes on my ukulele, my eyes right on Gerard. “But I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you? Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes, some things were meant to be. Take my hand, take my whole life, too…,”  
“Cause I can’t help falling in love with you!” All the guys except for Gerard, who is just sitting there with his legs crossed with a smile on his face, joined in singing along with me on that line. I didn’t expect any them to do that, but oh well. I don’t mind at all. I am doing good. I gotta keep going.  
“Like a river flows, surely to the sea. Darling, so it goes, some things were meant to be, oh...Take my hand, take my whole life, too….,”  
“Cause I can’t help falling in love with you!” Ray, Bob, and Mikey all chimed in again, louder than before. “Cause I can’t help falling in looooooooooove wiiiiiiiiiitttthhhhhh yoooooou!” They all cheered, applauding me as I was coming to a close. I can’t ever stop myself from smiling, as well as my eyes from watering up, seeing the smiling Gerard with his hands cupped over his mouth, crying tears of sheer happiness.  
“But I can’t help...falling in love...with....you,” I sang, ending the song with a final note.  
“Oh my god…” Gerard gasped, wiping at his eyes. He clapped his hands, leaping up to his feet. “That was beautiful!”  
“Just like you, Gee,” I sighed, relieved I didn’t drop dead from a heart attack playing in front of others. I jumped a little when I felt Gerard nearly collide into me, wrapping his arms tightly around me once again. I, of course, let him in, holding him close to me. I swear I can still hear Gerard crying. But he’s not crying because he’s sad. He’s crying because he’s so happy, knowing he’s loved.  
“I...I love you, baby,” he whispered, pecking my cheek with a kiss. “I can’t help falling in love with you, Frankie,”  
“Neither can I,” I held his face up to mine, closing in for a kiss. “I love you too, Gerard…”  
_ _ _  
The rest of the night went by with all of us...well, partying, obviously. We all devoured the birthday cake until it was nothing but a plate of crumbs, had some drinks, watched a marathon of hilariously cheesy old-school horror flicks, and played some Donkey Konga and Super Smash Bros. on the Gamecube. Gerard, being the goofball he is, suggested we play a game of what he dubbed “pin the tail on the Mikey”. Of course, Mikey wasn’t pleased at the sound of that idea one bit. With Gerard’s bizarre version of pin the tail on the donkey chucked right out the window, we all sat around in the living room, the whole place riddled with trash that none of us bothered to pick up. Ray, the supposed neat freak of the household, doesn’t seem to be bothered. None of us care. This is a night to let loose and take a break from the daily grind. The cleaning up can wait. Right now it’s one-thirty in the morning, and I think it’s safe to say that we’re all a little wiped out from being a bunch of animals--a bunch of animals that are clearly not sober, especially Ray, Bob, and Mikey--who all decided to take a few too many tokes from Bob’s wacky-tobaccy. I can’t help but laugh at them all. Ray took off the shade from the lamp and decided to use it as a hat, dancing around like a slap-happy maniac with it on, the thing veiling over his fro. Meanwhile, Mikey is rambling next to a tranced-out Bob about his odd obsession with unicorns, wishing he could just hop on one and “fly away from this sad world”. That just leaves me and Gerard, the both of us sitting cross-legged on the floor only a bit buzzed from the few drinks we each had earlier, our noses filled to the brim with that strong and smoky scent of what Bob likes to call “the sweet leaf”.  
“Frankie,” Gerard said, his eyes focused on Lola, perched in his lap. “This is...uh, pretty awkward...”  
“What is?” I asked.  
“What do you think?” Gerard motioned his head over to a high and bloodshot-eyed Ray, Bob, and Mikey sitting behind us up on the sofa.  
Oh, that. Duh. Can’t really say I don’t agree with him. It does feel weird, aside from it being kinda hilarious.  
“Hey guys,” Bob suddenly said, nudging me on the shoulder. “Why don’t you join us? Got some good stuff here. You’re missing out!”  
Call me a prude, or someone who’s been hiding under a rock, but in all the twenty-three years I’ve been on this planet, I’ve never once smoked pot. You could say that that really doesn’t come as a big surprise, considering the uptight and conservative household I came from, being the only child of two strict parents and all. However, that’s not to say my friends were ever really the same way. If anything, they’re all pretty much far from that. The closest I’ve gotten to pot was watching others do it, including said friends. I really don’t know if I should give it a try. Something tells me that I’ll end up really regretting it if I do-  
“Oh, why the fuck not?” Gerard replied, surprisingly accepting Bob’s offer. “Hit me up,”  
“Alright, man! That’s the spirit!” Bob exclaimed, handing Gerard his lighter and painted glass pipe.  
“Wh-what?” I stumbled over my own words, finding it hard for me to envision someone like Gerard smoking a bowl. Drinking? Sure, I guess. But...smoking pot? “Gerard, y-you’ve smoked weed before?”  
“Of course I have, baby. Who hasn’t?” Gerard flicked on the lighter, bringing it to the pipe and taking a long hit. He then released his lips from the mouthpiece, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling, the smoke running out of Gerard’s mouth as he craned his head back in a relaxed and hazy ecstasy. He soon opened his eyes, a smile slowly forming on his face. “Oh my god, Bob...you weren’t kidding at all...this is some good shit,”  
“Told ya, man,” Bob nodded in agreement. “You bet your ass it’s good stuff,” he then turned to me, seeing how awkward and silent I am, seeing what’s unfolding in front of me right now. I was right. It really does feel odd being the only one in the room sober. “C’mon, Frank. Try some!”  
“Oh, ah…,” I stuttered, unsure of what to even do right now. “I don’t know, not sure if I really wanna-”  
“Oh, come on, baby!” Gerard nearly shoved the pipe right at me. “Try this, it’s really good!”  
Sweet Jesus, Gerard...you’re really not making the situation any better here.  
“Yeah, Frank!” Ray chimed in, the lampshade still sitting on his head. “Don’t be such a party pooper. Join the fun!”  
“Please, baby?” Gerard cooed. “Just try it. Just fuck everything and try it. Everything in this world is all fucked up. Let’s just take one day off from fucked up. Don’t be the odd one out, Frankie. I don’t want you to get left out,”  
“But, Gerard...you guys, I-”  
“Come on, Frank! Do it, do it, do it!” Bob chanted, the rest of the guys, including Gerard, joining in and chanting in unison. “Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it-”  
“Alright, alright!” I scoffed, giving in. There’s just no use fighting it. Fuck it. I’ll try it, and if I like it, great. If not...well, I’ll never do it again. “Let me try,”  
“Alright, baby! Now we’re talking!” Gerard cheered, handing me over the pipe again. I reluctantly grabbed it, feeling the warm glass against the skin of my now shaking hand. I don’t know if I should be excited or scared. I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what to do. My mind just can’t seem to make itself up. I’m going fucking crazy, aren’t I? I wrapped my lips around the mouthpiece as Gerard flipped on the lighter again, blazing up the little wad of half-burnt kush sitting in the bowl, waiting to be smoked.  
“Okay, breathe in, Frankie,” Gerard prompted. “Slowly inhale it in, and don’t stop,” I obeyed, feeling the smoke travel down my throat and fill up my now stinging lungs. It wasn’t long before my respiratory system gave in, sending me into a coughing and gagging frenzy. I can’t stop coughing. My chest and throat hurts so bad. I feel like shit. I have this horrible taste in my mouth, and goddamnit, I just can’t stop coughing. It’s like I’m coughing up my own lungs. I am a coughing wreck; a wreck that can’t smoke right like everyone else.  
“I’m sorry,” I gagged. “Oh my god, Gee...I’m sorry, I can’t-” I clenched onto my chest, falling back into the coughing fit. My throat’s so fucking dry. I can barely speak. I feel so sick. I feel-  
“Oh, baby,” Gerard put a stroking hand on my back, patting my body curled up in a ball as my coughing fit continued. “It’s okay, sugar. It takes time before you get used to it. You inhaled too fast. You gotta hold it in for the stuff to kick in faster,”  
“I dunno, Gerard,” I shook my head, nearly gagging at the thought of tasting that awful stuff in my mouth again. “I think I’ll pass. My throat is killing me-”  
I covered my mouth with both hands, trying to stop myself from coughing and hacking all over everyone. It just never ends, does it? I’m still fucking hacking and wheezing as much as an asthma kid without his inhaler. I’m hopeless.  
“Here, man,” Mikey tapped my shoulder from behind me. I turned around to find him standing over me with an open bottle of water in his hand, his eyes as red and squinty as everyone else’s. I grabbed the water from him like lightning and chugged it down, feeling the aqua drench my hoarse and stinging throat.  
“Holy fuck,” I sighed. “Thanks, Mikes,” Before I could even hear Mikey say you’re welcome, my eyes came across Gerard taking another hit, with Bob and Ray cheering around him. I am at a loss of words. How can he smoke that stuff without coughing his insides up? How can anyone handle that shit? Just like last time, Gerard released his mouth from the pipe, closing his eyes and arching his head back. He then opened up his mouth into the shape of an O, the smoke exiting from it in small floating rings.  
Whoah...he can smoke rings? That’s...really fucking rad, actually. Damn, is there really anything Gerard can’t do?  
“Yeah, man!” Bob exclaimed. “Way cool, dude!”  
“How do you do that?” I asked. I kinda wanna try and do it. I don’t wanna look like the pathetic newbie next to everyone else. I feel so alienated. I’m not cool. I wanna be cool like everyone else. Everything here is cool but me.  
“Oh, it takes practice, baby. Gotta really use the tongue and throat to pull it off-”  
“Let me try!” I reached out for the pipe. “I wanna try, Gee!”  
“Oh, really? Here,” Gerard handed the pipe back to me, guiding it to my lips with his hands still on it as I readied my lips around the mouthpiece again. “Remember to inhale slowly. I’ll tell you when to stop and hold it in, okay?”  
I nodded in response as Gerard lit up the bowl again, then did as Gerard said, slowly breathing in the smoke and feeling it travel down inside me again. It still really stings and tastes bad, but not as bad as before. I don’t feel so shitty anymore. I feel relaxed. Too relaxed. Nothing hurts anymore. I’m not anxious and freaking out. Everything’s fine. Too fine. Something doesn’t feel right, even though it feels good somehow.  
“Alright, stop,” Gerard prompted. “Hold it in, baby. Take a deep breath in and don’t let it out yet. Keep it all in there,”  
I gasped in slowly, holding the smoke in my lungs as I breathed in slowly and quietly. I closed my eyes again. This isn’t so bad after all. I fucked up the first time, but now I’m doing good. I don’t look like an uncool idiot now. I am cool. I am cool and relaxed and peaceful and-  
“Alright, open your mouth now, in a big O, and-”  
My throat and lungs caved in on me again, rejecting whatever the hell I just put in it’s body out of my mouth, throwing me into yet another marathon of coughs and gags. Goddamnit, I screwed up again. That’s okay, though. I really am done. My throat hurts like a bitch. I feel so tired. I’m too tired to do anything. I feel so dizzy and lightheaded. My whole body feels so light, like a feather. I can just float away with a sweep of the wind.  
“Alright, Frank!” Bob sang. “You’re getting it, man! That’s a real strong hit you took there!”  
“You’re getting it, sugar pop,” Gerard patted me on the back. “I think that’s enough for you. You feeling anything?”  
“Yeah,” I nodded, unable to hold myself still. My body feels so light. It keeps rocking back and forth, and I can’t stop. “I feel...weird…what is this?” I leaned back, suddenly losing my balance and falling flat on my back, waddling face-up like an upside down turtle laying on it’s shell. I probably look really stupid right now, but...that was hilarious, actually. In fact, it’s so hilarious that I’m laughing my ass off.  
“Uh oh,” A bloodshot-eyed and grinning Gerard leaned over me, holding out his open hand for me. “Need a hand?”  
“Yeah, thanks,” I grabbed hold of Gerard’s hand as he pulled me back up, until he suddenly stumbled over me, like his shoelaces are untied or something, and fell forward, sending the both of us down and back on the floor, the weight of Gerard’s body on top of me and pinning me down. I ended up hitting my head in the process, thumping right up against the dingy carpeted floor, and it of course hurt like a son of a gun.  
“Ow, damn it, Gee,” I winced in pain, rubbing the back of my now throbbing head, still feeling so lightheaded.  
“Sorry, sugar pop,” Gerard replied. “I guess I just got so emo I fell apart,”  
Oh my god, Gerard….Oh...my...god!  
Okay, now that was really fucking hilarious. I’m laughing again, so hard that I swear I’m close to pissing myself. Gerard’s laughing too, and so is Ray, Bob, and Mikey...which, of course, makes it all even funnier. We’re all high. We’re all laughing. We’re all happy.  
_ _ _  
I don’t know if whether one hour has passed, or four and a half. Time seems to be non-existent right now. The last god knows how long has been nothing but a blur to me. I kept on asking Gerard and the others what time it is, and sometimes they’d tell me, or they’d just flat out ignore me. I don’t know if it’s because they can’t hear me or they’re getting sick of me constantly asking them the time. I keep trying to look at the clock on the wall, but I don’t know if I can even trust that. I’d look at the time, then away for a while, then look again and see that barely five or so minutes have passed, yet it feels like it’s been hours since I last looked. It’s like the clock is lying to me almost. Everything is just slipping away from me. Either that, or I’m the one that’s slipping away from everyone. All around me are familiar faces, laughing and goofing off and doing fuck all. Gerard is rolling around on the floor while talking complete nonsense I can’t put together in my loopy-ass mind, while Ray is still dancing and frolicking around with the lampshade over his head. Meanwhile, Mikey is sitting on top of Bob’s back, riding on him just like the unicorn he keeps fantasizing about. I really don’t know what’s going on, and I am scared out of my mind right now. I remember I was laughing with everyone else earlier, but I’m sure as hell am not laughing anymore. I’m frozen, sitting in the same spot on the floor, unable to move a muscle in my body, no matter how much I command it to. How long have I been sitting here? I really don’t know. It’s like my own body is giving in on me, leaving me as an empty lifeless shell. Seriously, what’s happening to me? What’s happening to everyone else? Nothing feels right. I need to know what’s going on!  
“Gerard?” I called out weakly, my voice hoarse. No one had to hear me that time. I’m not loud enough. “Gerard, can you hear me?” I turned to him, seeing him still rolling around on the floor. He didn’t even look at me. It’s like to him I’m not even there!  
Oh my god. What if I’m not the only one that’s slipping away? What if it’s all of us? We all smoked Bob’s weed, after all. What if there was something laced in that stuff, like a drug that makes us all lose our minds, and soon our own lives? I already feel like I’m dying. My heart’s racing, I’m sweating so much that I’m just about soaked to the bone, looking like I just stepped out of the shower with my clothes on. I can barely breathe right, feeling my chest constrict and suffocate my lungs. That’s why I can’t move. I’m fucking dying!  
“G-gerard!” I called out to him again, trying my damndest to get his attention. “Gerard, help me! Please!”  
No response. He’s still on the floor. He’s not rolling around anymore, though. He’s lying face-down on the floor. His body is still. Too still. He hasn’t moved an inch. I can’t see him breathing. His chest isn’t rising and falling. He’s just lying there like a ragdoll, and no one is helping him. I would run to him and shake him to just wake up already, but I can’t. I still can’t move!  
“Gerard? Can you hear me?” I yelled, yet again hearing no response.  
Oh, no...is he dead? Is it too late to save him? Oh god...oh, no...this can’t happen!  
“Gerard! Gerard, look at me! Open your eyes! Please, wake up! Please, wake the fuck up! Please, Gerard...please!”  
It’s no use. It’s too late. He’s already dead, and no one can save him, not even me. I have failed. I failed to fix him. He’s beyond repair. I can’t fix something that’s dead!  
“Gerard! Gerard, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Gerard! Gerard! GERARD!”  
I am a failure...a failure that’s dying, surrounded by people that are also gonna die soon. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t save him. I can’t do anything. All I can do is scream and cry, waiting for my impending doom. I shut my eyes, curling up into a shaking ball, hugging my useless body, feeling it collapse and give in on me.  
“GERARD! GERARD! GERARD! GER-”  
“Frankie? Frankie! Calm down, it’s okay!”  
I felt something scoop me up off the ground, holding me into it’s arms. I don’t know who’s arms they are, but they feel strong. They just took me and lifted me up with no struggle at all. Whoever is holding me deserves my thanks. At least I’ll die being in the comforting hold of someone that’s still well and living. At least this person cares about me. At least they’ll let me cry in their arms as my life comes to a final close. Who’s holding me, though? I need to tell him thank you. I need to see who it is.  
“It’s okay, sugar pop. Don’t cry. I’m here,” the man said, cradling my small and weak body as he held me close to his body that reeks of weed and cigarettes.  
Gerard…?  
“What?” I looked up at him. I know that face. That beautiful, breathtaking face.  
Oh my god...he’s alive! Gerard’s not dead! He’s alive and breathing!  
“Gerard!” I cried, burying my face in his chest and weeping helplessly. I just can’t stop crying. I’m gonna die in Gerard’s arms, right in front of him. “Oh my god, Gerard! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Gee! I have failed you!”  
I’m so pathetic. He’s gonna lose me forever. He’s gonna be all alone. Who’s gonna fix him when I’m gone? Who’s gonna be there for him when he’s alone? Who’s gonna wipe his tears away when he’s sad? I really have failed. I really am a dying failure!  
“I’m sorry, Gerard! I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna leave you alone! I don’t wanna leave you unfixed! I-”  
“Shhh,” Gerard put a finger over my lips, sealing them shut. With my body still snug in his arms, he walked down the stairs and to his bedroom, laying me down under the covers of his bed. “Hush, baby. You’re not dying. You’re safe,”  
Wait...what?  
But I am dying! Does he not see? I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything. I’m losing myself, and I can feel it! I’m as hopeless as a terminally-ill cancer patient on his deathbed, the machines hooked up to him failing to keep his body alive and working. What the hell is Gerard talking about? Is he blind or something?  
“What?” I mouthed. That’s all I can say. I barely have the strength to speak anymore. I’m that close.  
“You’re not gonna die, Frankie. You’re just having a bad trip. You’re paranoid. That’s normal for some people when they’re high. I swear you’re not dying. I’m not gonna let that happen to you, baby. I promise,”  
“R-really?” My eyes widened. Is he for real? Is he pulling my leg or something? “I’m not dying?”  
“No, you’re not!” Gerard laughed, getting under the covers with me. “What do I gotta do, spell it out for you? You are not gonna die!”  
“Do you swear?”  
“I swear on my fucking grave, baby,” Gerard leaned forward and cupped my face into his hand, blessing my still hot and sweaty skin with a kiss right from his sweet and smooth lips. “I don’t know what the hell I’d do if you were dying. I’d be a real mess. I’d lose my fucking mind if I lost you!”  
Oh my god. He’s right after all, isn’t he? I am not dying! It really is just from the effects of the weed. I’m still breathing! I’m alive! I am alive, and it feels so great! Gerard makes me feel alive!  
“Oh, honey!” I squeezed Gerard in my arms like a big stuffed teddy bear, daring to not let go. I’m also not even attempting to stop myself from crying. There’s no fighting it. “Oh, Gerard...thank you! I just...oh, Gerard, I can’t stop crying! I just-”  
“That’s okay, Frankie,” Gerard returned the favor, hugging my shaking body. “Tears are words that the heart cannot express,”  
I don’t think I could ever stop myself from crying until I felt my eyes grow heavy with tiredness. That’s okay, though. Gerard was right what he said about tears. I laid my head down on his chest, hearing the rhythm of his beating heart thumping under his ribcage. It’s so relaxing to hear as I shut my eyes, slowly drifting into an oncoming deep sleep.  
“Hey, Frankie,” Gerard whispered, stroking my head on his chest. “I have some very big, very important news for you,”  
“What’s that?”  
Gerard responded with a long pause of silence for what seemed like ages, until he sighed woefully, like something was wrong.  
“Never mind. I’ll tell you in the morning,”  
“Are you sure?” I asked, immediately concerned. Something’s up with him. I can feel it.  
“Yeah, I am. Now’s just not the right time. I promise I’ll tell you in the morning, alright?”  
I must say I’m a little disappointed. I wanna know what he wants to tell me. I just have to know! I guess all I really can do is wait til morning, just like he said. But that’s alright. It’s worth the wait. Gerard is worth waiting for. He’s worth everything to me.  
“Happy birthday, Gerard,” I said, before slipping into unconsciousness.


	18. Weighted

“Good morning, sunshine! The earth says hello!”  
I sleepily opened up my eyes to find Gerard standing over me with a smile on his face and two big mugs of coffee in his hands, with Lola all set up in her new cage behind him on his dresser. I sat up in bed, taking one of the cups from him and sipped on the warm java. It’s just right. Gerard always knows how to make really good coffee. He put in extra cream and sugar in it for me, just like how I always want it.  
“Thanks, hun,” I said. “How’d you sleep?”  
“Fantastic. How about you? You feel better?” Gerard sat down on the bed next to me, exchanging me a concerned look. “You really scared me last night,”  
I felt my heart sink at Gerard saying those two last words. I don’t know what the hell got into me. I just about lost my mind. Normally it’s Gerard that’s the one freaking out and panicking, and I’m the one to comfort him. But that’s not what happened last night. I had a really bad trip from smoking some of Bob’s weed, and it made me go fucking crazy. I thought I was gonna die. I was so scared, more than I have ever been in a long time. I remember shaking and sweating and barely able to speak or even breathe. It was like I was having a full-blown panic attack, which is something I haven’t experienced in ages. I wish I could go back in time and tell my stoned self that it’s just that, and that I wasn’t dying, but then again, when I do have episodes like that, it sometimes feel like I really am dying. There were times when I was in high school where I literally had to walk out of class and to the nurse’s station just to recollect myself. It would happen unpredictably without any warning. I could be perfectly fine minding my own business, then spiral down into a complete neurotic mess, shaking and hyperventilating like crazy. God, I must’ve looked like a complete idiot in front of everyone. I do feel like one. I got both me and Gerard all worked up over nothing. I made him upset...again.  
“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I don’t know why that happened. I was scared shitless over nothing. I scared you, Gerard. I’m sorry,”  
“It’s okay, Frankie,” Gerard smiled. “It was just a bad trip. That’s all. Shit happens, y’know?”  
“No, it’s not that. I scared you to death, and it was all over me being way too paranoid and dramatic. I shouldn’t have smoked with you guys. I ruined your special night. I ruined everything-”  
“Frank, stop it,” Gerard interrupted, his voice stern. “No more of that, okay?  
“Of what?”  
“Of you beating yourself up like that. I don’t wanna see you do that. It just makes me upset. You did nothing wrong. You didn’t mess up anything. It’s all over and done with, okay?”  
I really should just drop it. I still feel like it’s all my fault, but I don’t wanna upset Gerard. He already doesn’t look too happy. Far from it, actually. Doing so would be like pouring salt on an open wound. That’s it. I’m gonna shut up now.  
“Alright…” I said. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop,”  
“Why are you saying sorry, Frankie? You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”  
“Oh, I’m-” I paused, stopping myself from saying that stupid five-lettered word again. “Okay…,”  
“It’s alright, baby,” Gerard patted my head, ruffling my already messy black hair. “I had so much fun last night. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough. No one has ever done anything for me like that, let alone on my birthday, except for Elena, and…,” Gerard stopped, his lips faltering over the words they can’t seem to let him speak. “...and...daddy and-and m-mama…,”  
I can’t help but frown seeing Gerard still unable to talk about his parents without being reminded of those horrid memories of what happened to them. He still can’t keep a straight face talking about the people that he loved, all of them now dead and gone forever. He has gotten better with it lately, not freaking out as much while speaking about them and all, but he’s still not fully there yet. There’s still some fixing that needs to be done for him. In fact, a lot of fixing. He still has a very long way to go.  
“You alright, Gee?” I asked, letting the coffee in my hands get cold. Gerard sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to hold back all those demons inside his head.  
“Yeah, I’m fine. My bad. Anyway…,” he shot his head up at me, smiling a bit, but genuinely. “About what I said last night...I have some big news,”  
“Oh, yeah!” My eyes lit up. “What is it, Gee? Good or bad? Please let it be good!”  
“Oh, it’s good,” Gerard replied, the smile growing bigger. “In fact, really good news! I’m so excited!”  
“That’s great!” I smiled back, seeing Gerard so elated. When he smiles, so do I. “What is it, Gee? Tell me!”  
“Well…,” Gerard took a long sip from his black coffee. “You see, I’ve been doing a lot of research over the past several days. Doing a lot of work on the computer, busting my ass off, you know?”  
“Right,” I nodded. That is true. If Gerard wasn’t writing or painting or whatever else, he was on the computer, and quite a lot too. I don’t know what exactly what he was doing, though. I never paid close attention. “What were you doing?”  
“I’ll get to that, alright? Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Gerard smirked, taking another small sip of his daily fix. “So anyway, I finally got around to going through with this after far too long. You helped me build up the courage to do this whole thing, and for that, I thank you, from the bottom of my heart. None of this would have ever been possible, had it not been for you,”  
“Of course, Gerard,” I blushed. “Anything for you. You’re welcome, honey,”  
“Frankie...did I not already tell you how lucky I am to have you? Or did I already tell you that millions of times already?” Gerard pressed his lips to mine, leaving me a short and sweet kiss and lightly poking me right on the nose. “Because that’s how I really feel, baby. I’m so glad to call you all mine,”  
“Same here, honey,” I laughed. Now Gerard is just buttering me up here, even though I can safely say all that for myself. I’m so blessed to call him mine too, but he needs to tell me already! What’s this big news here? Damn it, Gerard! Quit beating around the bush and tell me now! It’s killing me! “So, what is it, Gerard? What do you wanna tell me?”  
Now I know for a fact that I was right when I said Gerard was buttering me up, seeing the smile fade from him, much to my worry. It really is big news alright...maybe too big.  
“Frankie…,” he said, taking a deep breath, his hazel eyes big and staring right at me. “I have…,”  
“You’ve what?”  
“I have...found one of them…,”  
What? What is he talking about? That’s not enough!  
“Hmm?” I cocked my head to the side, furrowing my brow. “What do you mean?”  
“What, you don’t know?” Gerard looked at me like I was speaking nonsense. “I have tracked one of them down! I found Irvine Bagninski, in New Jersey. I now know exactly where he lives!”  
Oh, no…  
He’s talking about that…  
He’s talking about one of the two men that killed his mom and dad…  
Oh, fuck me...I was not prepared for this…  
“O-oh…,” I muttered. That’s literally all I can say. What the hell can I say? I’m at a loss of words. I don’t know if I’m really willing to-  
“So now that I know where he is, thanks to all that time well-spent on a lovely tool called the deep web, finding all his information that just so happened to have been leaked, I can finally scratch his name off my kill list, after all these years!” Gerard continued, enthusiasm and sheer elation just radiating from him, looking like he just won the lottery or something. “We’re gonna have to take a road trip all the way to Jersey, jumping in between different motels just to be safe, but that’s alright. I’ve got everything all covered, baby. Everything’s all planned out, and all that I need now is your help!”  
Good lord. I seriously don’t know how to respond to this. Gerard wasn’t kidding when he said that this was big news. It is big, alright. Way too big. He actually wants me to help him murder someone...and the worst part is, I already told him I’d help him get his revenge. I told him I’d help him kill someone, for fuck’s sake! There’s no doubt in my mind that Gerard wants to shed Irvine’s blood as grotesquely as the other people he’s killed, and he actually wants me to take part in all that. Seriously, how in the hell am I supposed to take in all this? My mind can still barely process what the hell Gerard just told me. If I back out of what I told Gerard what I’d help him do, what kind of person does that make me? A liar? A fool? Actually, no. I’d be both those things, especially a fool. On the other hand, if I do go through with helping Gerard kill Irvine, then god knows what kind of trouble we’ll get ourselves in. It could end up costing us our whole lives, as far as I’m concerned. What if we get caught? Then what happens? Nothing good, that’s for sure. How the hell can I say yes to help killing someone? How can I keep a straight face with what’s taking place right now? What the fuck do I even do?  
“Isn’t this great, Frankie?” Gerard patted my back, making me jump due to me spacing off, being so caught up with the conflicting thoughts racing through my mind. “I finally have the chance to get this fucker’s blood on my hands...and I get to do it with you!”  
“Well...uh...Gerard, I…, ah…,” I stuttered, still unsure where to even begin. I just can’t keep my cool around him. I can barely fucking speak at all. I can already feel myself visibly shaking, the hairs on the back of my neck rising up. I think that was when Gerard took the hint that I’m not taking all this as well as he hoped I would.  
“What’s the matter, sugar pop?” Gerard put a hand on my shoulder, his touch making my skin crawl. “Aren’t you happy for me? I’m finally get to rain vengeance upon the two monsters that took...d-daddy and...m-mama away from me! You should be excited, Frankie!” I can see the discomfort slowly settling into Gerard, his speech constantly stumbling over the mentioning of his parents, the grin from his face slowly fading.  
“Gerard,” I sighed deeply. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was big news…,”  
“Well, of course I wasn’t. You alright, baby?”  
“Gerard,” I said his name again, my tone of voice giving off maybe too much of an edge of seriousness, seeing him wince a little at how I just addressed him. I need to tell him the truth. I need to tell him how I really feel. It’s the best thing I can do now. “It’s not just big, it’s huge. I really don’t know how to take in all this…,”  
“Oh…wh-why’s that, F-Frankie?” Gerard whined, his beaming eyes wide and full of hurt, so much that it physically hurts me to see. It also hurts to see how bewildered he looks, not seeming to understand the weight of what he just threw at me unexpectedly.  
“Gerard…you’re asking me to help you murder someone! That’s a lot to ask for, don’t you think? I can’t say yes to something like this right away. I don’t know if I can do that. It’s just so much. I’ve never killed anyone before. I-”  
“B-but...but F-frankie!” Gerard interrupted, his voice shifting into that familiar high-pitched childish tone as his disenchanted eyes grew bigger. “Y-you told me you’d...h-help me, right? You told me you’d help me get my...r-revenge, didn’t you?”  
“Well...yeah, I did, but…,” I said truthfully, already feeling defeated as much as Gerard must be right now. Slowly but surely, I am tearing away all the hope and joy Gerard had, and I feel like total shit because of it. I am a horrible person and a big disappointment. “You need to understand that...I just...I just can’t say yes right away. I need some time, Gerard. I need time to think this over. I have to-”  
“N-no!” Gerard hissed, his tearful and ice-cold eyes glaring at me bitterly as his whole body shook violently. “You sh-shouldn’t have to...th-think about it….Y-you have t-to say y-yes….Y-you s-said you’d h-help me….Y-you p-promised me!”  
“Gerard, I can’t make any promises about killing someone though!” I exclaimed, my patience with Gerard starting to vanish. He just doesn’t understand. He’s fucking oblivious, and it’s frustrating as much as it is downright unnerving. “Don’t you get it, Gerard? I’m not the one that murdered seven fucking people. You just can’t expect me to say yes to something like that and not-”  
“Bullshit!” Gerard spat, a strand of spittle flying from his mouth and landing right on my cheek, his face only inches away from mine. I backed away, only to find myself cornered with my back up against the wall, the hysterical and enraged Gerard keeping me trapped. Now I feel stupid. All I did was add fuel to the flame that’s so close to destroying me. “Y-you told me y-you would...h-help me, F-frankie. You…y-you lied to me!”  
I think I should run...no, I need to run. I have to get the hell out of here, away from Gerard. He’s losing it, and his next target to pounce on is standing right in front of him, scared shitless and unable to get away. If I dare to move a muscle, I know damn well it’ll land me in a much worse position than I’m in now.  
“G-gerard…,” I stuttered under chattering teeth, slowly losing my ability to breathe right. “Gerard...stop it. You’re scaring me,”  
“You fucking lied to me, Frankie!” Gerard cried, his shaky and kid-like voice choked back by his sobs. “Why would you lie to me, Frankie? You promised me you’d help me kill them both, and now all of a sudden you’re backing out? If you won’t kill these men with me like you said you would, what else are you not gonna do? What else do you wanna lie to me about, Frank? Huh? You shouldn’t have to think about it if you really cared.You shouldn’t have to fucking think about it if you really love me. You don’t, Frank. You don’t fucking care. You don’t fucking love me, do you?”  
“Of course I love you,” I said weakly, feeling myself curl up in a vain attempt to defend myself from the venomous and rageful Gerard cornering me, leaving me vulnerable and hopeless. This isn’t the Gerard I love. This isn’t the same Gerard I met in the dark basement, all alone and cut off from the world beyond his trashed haven, wanting nothing but someone to be with to chase away the monsters in his head. This is someone different. I hate this Gerard. I am scared of this Gerard. This Gerard is one of those monsters I’ve been running away from for too long. “I do love you, but you need to stop. You’re really scaring me. You need to step back and stop-”  
“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo!” the monster growled, lunging even closer to me, his red and terrifying face obscured by it’s black hair the only thing I can see now. His claws for hands grabbed my shaking body, pinning me up against the corner of the lair that is the fiend’s room. I can’t see anything but it’s face breathing over mine, his twisted brown and green eyes leering at me like a snarling wolf over it’s fallen prey. “What’s the matter? Huh? Is the big bad Gerard fucking Way scaring the little Frank Iero, the man that doesn’t give a flying fuck about anyone but himself? Well?”  
“Gerard, stop it!” I screamed, pushing and shoving under his tight grasp on me, barely making him even stumble a bit. “Get off of me! Let me go, please!”  
“You don’t fucking care! You don’t fucking love me! You’re a fucking liar, Frank. A motherfucking backstabbing lying son of a-”  
“Get the fuck off me!” With another hard and final shove, I pushed Gerard off of me, his head making a loud thud as his body hit the floor. That’s it. I am done. I’ve had enough. I need to run, as far away as I can from the monster that just put it’s filthy hands on me. He almost hurt me again. He told me that he’d never hurt me, only to do just that anyway. He’s a fucking liar, just like me. I darted across the room and to the door, not thinking twice about the decision I made. As I reached for the doorknob, my eyes foolishly glanced over at Gerard still lying on the floor, looking up at me with those deceiving doe-like eyes. He’s trying to play the victim after what he just did to me. I’m not buying it.  
“F-frankie…,” he whimpered, clearly begging for my over-indulged sympathy and attention. “You...y-you hurt me, F-frankie…,”  
Are you fucking kidding me, Gerard? Goddamn you.  
“No!” I spat, feeling myself tremble with bottled-up anger. “You hurt me too. You laid your hands on me first, and you know it. I had every right to fight back. You fucking deserved it, Gerard!”  
Oh my god...did I really just say that? Did I really just open up my mouth and tell Gerard that he-  
“F-frankie…,” he cried in that childish voice, backing away from me and retreating himself into a curled up ball, burying his weeping face into his hands. “Y-you hurt me, F-frankie! You hurted me, F-frankie! You h-hurted m-me!”  
Dear fucking god. What kind of a sick and fucked up person I am to say that to him? I was wrong. Gerard isn’t the monster. Maybe I’m the monster that’s hurting him. I told him he deserved to be hurt, which is something that was done to him one too many times in his broken and haunting past, surrounded by abusive foster parents and heartless bullies. What the fuck is wrong with me? Who the hell do I think I am to say such a thing? I am scum. No, I’m worse than that. I’m much worse than scum. Calling myself scum would be far too lenient and generous.  
“Gerard, don’t cry. Gerard!” I called out to him, barely able to hear my own voice over his loud cries erupting throughout the whole room. I hope to fucking god no one can hear us, knowing how deafeningly loud his sobs are, making my ears ring and my head throb. I reached out for him, kneeling over his cowering body curled up on the carpeted floor. I made him cry again. Now I need to calm him down. “Gerard, stop crying! I’m sorry! I-”  
“No!” he screamed, swatting his hand away from me. He sat up and backed further away from me, stumbling in his own aimless path. Those doe-like eyes of his vanished, replaced with the hateful hazel orbs that are beaming at me once again. “You’re not fucking sorry, Frank! You are a goddamn liar! You don’t care about me! You don’t love me! You’re a liar!”  
“Gerard, stop it! Please, just calm the fuck down and-”  
“No!” Gerard’s hand flew up and across his own face, sending his head down and hanging, hidden under his mass of messy black hair. He then shot back up at me with those same manic eyes, the half of his face now a bright throbbing red. He smiled and let out a roaring laugh, as if taking pleasure in what he just did to himself as he continued to indulge in his own self-inflicted pain. “You don’t care, Frank! You don’t care! Youdon’tcareyoudon’tcareyoudon’tcare-”  
“Stop it!” I reached for Gerard’s self-harmful and restless arms, struggling to hold them down and away from him. “Stop it, Gerard! Stop hitting yourself! Stop hurting yourself, please!”  
“GO AWAY!” Gerard screamed at me again, his voice distorting to one that’s so viciously loud and monstrous beyond words as he shoved me off of him. That’s when I knew damn well that I had to run for my fucking life. I’d be suicidal to keep myself put around this raging lunatic.  
“GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT! NOW!”  
I did just that, jolting right out of Gerard’s bedroom and up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind me. Thank fucking god Ray and Mikey are not home right now. They’re thankfully both at work. I’m not worried about Bob, though. His stoner ass could care less what goes on in this godforsaken place. The last thing I want is to make a big scene outta my frantic and terrified self. If Ray and Mikey were home, they’d obviously be wondering why the hell I’m huffing and puffing and running like a motherfucker, away from the man that’s far outta his own corrupted and sick mind.  
_ _ _  
I barely uttered a word for the rest of the night. I kept myself away from everyone too, including Gerard. I shouldn’t even have to explain why that’s so. I am at a complete loss of words after what just unfolded downstairs recently. I’ve distanced myself far from the basement door, confining myself to the living room upstairs on the futon. Ray and Mikey obviously saw that something just wasn’t sitting well with me. They both know that I’m usually down in the basement with Gerard if I wasn’t out at work. Mikey even asked me if anything went wrong between me and Gerard, but I just simply told him that we both had a small argument, and that I needed time away from him. He thankfully didn’t press on the matter or even go to check up on his bat-shit insane older brother downstairs. I’m confident that he clearly knew in his mind that what the hell just happened between the two of us was none of his damn business. Either that, or he knew that whenever me and Gerard got into an argument to stay the fuck away from him, and for good reason. Anyone dumb enough would have to have a serious death wish to even go near him after all that took place beforehand. With all that being said, I can undoubtedly say that I am a major fucking dumbass for letting myself fall right into a giant trap, that trap being my toxic “relationship” with Gerard. If I make one more wrong move on top of the many ones I’ve already done, I’m SOL and JWF--shit outta luck and jolly well-fucked.  
As I pissed away the rest of the day keeping myself glued to the living room futon, I created a long list in my uneasy and racing mind. The contents of this list are what my options are, considering the possibly life-threatening position I landed myself in long ago. Unfortunately, each option in this trivial scenario is as unsatisfying and downright questionable as the next. Gerard isn’t just this big, loving teddy bear I can hug. He’s much more than that. He’s more than just a convicted killer and escaped mental patient; he’s a fucking psychopath. He’s just like a ticking time bomb that’s nearing to the count of zero, and if I dare cut the wrong wires, everything will be destroyed, including the two of us. Our twisted bondage with each other has reached the point of no return, meaning that I can’t just leave him out of the blue or turn him in, and expect nothing to happen in the aftermath of it. Oh, no. No fucking way will Gerard let all that slide. He will find me, one way or another. This is the same guy that’s managed to escape from a high-security mental institution and stay off the radar for a shockingly long time, on top of killing four people upon his getaway from Trenton State Hospital There’s no doubt in my mind that, without hesitation, he will add more people to his body count, including myself. He would want my severed head on a silver platter, or mounted up on a wall like a taxidermied deer. I would be responsible for the death of more people, as well as myself, and because of that, I’d be incredibly guilty. I am a fucking fool and am way too sincere for my own good, but despite how ungodly deranged and homicidal Gerard is, there’s still a part of me that loves him to tears. I still need to fix him. Giving up on him will not only prove Mikey right about his brother, but also leave him behind to wither away in his own insanity and pain, when he doesn't deserve such a thing at all. With that being said, does helping him kill someone really prove all that? It isn’t just any person though. It’s someone that’s been let off the hook far too easily despite doing something downright sinister and malicious to a handful of innocent people. Not only that, but he's one of the men responsible for making Gerard the way he is. If it hadn't been for what happened to Gerard and his parents, he would have never become so psychologically damaged. He would have never been through a slue of foster homes. He would have never been abused and raped. He never would have snapped and killed anyone so viciously. If it hadn't been for the motherfucker named Irvine goddamn Bagninski, Gerard would have never become broken. It's not that difficult for me to hate this man with a burning passion because of all this. With all this is mind...is it really worth it for me to accept Gerard's request (or rather more like his demand) to help him hunt this guy down? Is it really worth it for us to possibly sacrifice both of our well-being, and even our freedom (that is, if we both get caught, god forbid) just to go out of our way to fulfill Gerard's life-long revenge quest? If it really does fix him...then, I will have to say yes. It may be worth it after all. Gerard is worth it all, even killing for.  
Holy fuck. What kind of man am I to be so willing to help someone like Gerard in adding one more casualty to his kill count? Does that make me a fool, amongst other things? If so, I could care less. I'd rather be a fool than someone that isn't willing to do just about anything to help the person I love. Gerard was right, as crazy as it sounds. If I really do love him like I say I do, then I am willing to help him finish what he started so long ago. I need to continue to let Gerard cool down and talk to him tomorrow morning. I need to tell him I'm sorry for the dismal and (mostly) inexcusable things I let myself do to him. I need to tell him that I will help him. It's for his sake. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: he's worth it.  
_ _ _  
It had to be at around nine when I woke up. In other words, it was still too fucking early for me, especially considering the fact that I have the opportunity to sleep in since I get to remain what’s left of my weekend off from work. The reason why I chose not to get extra sleep time in was because I simply just couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. The whole night consisted of me attempting to fall asleep, only to wake up a nearly frantic and shaking mess from either the thought of seeing Gerard again and giving in to his rather forceful blood-shedding invitation, or from the same nightmare over and over again that kept replaying in my mind; it’s contents was something that’s scarily not foreign to the depths of my mind--Gerard taunting my fallen body with my severed head hanging from his hand, a malicious smile and dripping bloody nose displayed on his snow white face. There’s no doubt that that recurring dream is the end result of me saying no to helping him, or running away from him or turning him over to the authorities, which ultimately defeats the purpose of me backing out. I not only want to help Gerard, I have to.  
After getting dressed and having a couple cups of coffee, I reluctantly headed back downstairs, making my way down the steps and into the living room. Before I could stop to take some deep breaths and tell myself to calm the hell down, I started to hear something off in the distnance; it’s coming from beyond Gerard’s door around the corner. I can hear his voice, clearly distressed and argumentative. Something definitely isn’t right. I need to hurry my ass up and get to him. I won’t even bother to knock on his door and wait to be let in. There’s no time for that. There’s something very wrong with Gerard. I can almost feel it, so much that it makes me sick.  
“Gerard?” I called out, charging right down the hall and into his room, nearly taking the bedroom door off it’s hinges when I darted inside. He’s on his bed, his back facing me with his shaking body all curled up, looking anything but okay.  
“Stop it! Leave me alone!” he spat, his face buried in his hands, muffling his agitated cries  
“Please go away! Please! Stop laughing at me! Ple-”  
“Gerard!” I exclaimed, running over to him and shaking him. “Gerard, who are you talking to?”  
“Get out! Get out of my head! Get-”  
“Gerard, listen to me! It’s me, Frank. Who are you talking to?” I shook him again, trying my damndest to get his full and undivided attention, away from whatever voice he’s arguing with in his head. “Look at me, Gerard! Look-”  
“Frankie?” Gerard gasped, turning to me.  
“Ger--ahh!” I nearly screamed and felt myself go pale when I saw him. He looked like he just got beat up to a bloody pulp, that person truthfully being himself, much to my dismay. His right eye is so swollen like the rest of his face, the lids dark red and puffy, obscuring one of his hazel orbs for eyes. His bottom lip is like that as well, with drops of blood coming out of a gash on the upper chin. He is so bruised too, the new black and blue ones overlapping the older green and brown ones scattered all over his wounded face. There’s also blood coming from his nose, dripping out in a small line from his left nostril, leaving drops all over his white shirt…  
Oh, god...just like in the dreams I keep seeing of him-  
“F-frankie…,” he frowned, seeing how much he spooked me and left me outright speechless. I think he’s close to crying, just like how I am right now. “Frankie...oh Frankie, I’m-”  
“Gerard…,” I slowly cupped my hand around his bruised face, my eyes still barely able to fully take in how much he’s really damaged his precious self. “Gerard...oh-oh my god...what did you do to-”  
“I’m sorry…,” Gerard pulled himself away from my hand, hiding himself in that defenseless ball of his. “I’m sorry, Frankie...but...b-but-”  
“But what?” I blurted out, trying to not let my tears get the better of me, but failing miserably, feeling myself on the verge of breaking down right in front of the self-wounded man. “But what, Gerard? Why? Why do you do this to yourself all the time? It’s wrong!”  
He didn’t even attempt to justify what he did to himself. He just sat silently, shielding his guilty self from a now furious yet devastated me. He looks so weak and vulnerable, his face bloody and beaten to a pulp. He looks so much unlike how he was last night when he laid his hands upon me. It’s like the tables have turned for us. He’s the one now cowering in the corner, fearing and intimidated by the predator towering over him. It’s like he’s the one that’s afraid of being hurt now...by me, out of all people.  
“I’m sorry…,” he whimpered again. “I’m sorry, Frankie….I’m sorry, baby….I’m sorry-”  
“Shhh,” I said in a hushed tone, silencing his marathon of apologies. “It’s okay, Gee. It’s alright,” I gently reached out for him, slowly helping him out of bed and up to his feet. Surprisingly, he didn't resist, but my god is that a good thing. I really need to get him cleaned up. I need to tend to his wounds. I can't stand to see him like this at all. It's just like seeing one of those tear-jerking ASPCA commercials showing those abused and neglected animals, their eyes full of utter fear and pain. It's just too hard for me to look at without feeling my soul shatter to pieces.  
>I walked Gerard into the bathroom and sat him down on top of the commode as I looked for some first aid supplies in the medicine cabinet. I found some rubbing alcohol as well as some band-aids and cotton balls for him and began to tend to the gash above his chin, lightly dabbing at it with a cotton ball doused in running alcohol. Gerard didn't even wince a bit the whole time, despite how much it must’ve stung for him. He just kept his apologetic eyes on to me, lettng me do my work.  
“I'm sorry, Frankie…,” Gerard said again for the hundredth time. “I'm sorry I let myself do all that,”  
“Do what?”  
“Do...what I did earlier,” he sighed remorsefully, looking lower than a dog.  
“Hmm?” I furrowed my brow, puzzled by Gerard's lack of specific detail. What is he sorry for? For hurting himself? For maybe getting a little too out of hand with me? For what? “What do you mean?”  
“For...doing something bad to you, Frankie. Something really bad. For hurting you,”  
“Gerard,” I shook head woefully, moving over to treating the wound on his nose, wiping the blood off. “It hurts me even more when you do this to yourself. Why do you hurt yourself like this all the time?”  
”B-because…,” Gerard stuttered, his lips quivering as he struggled to speak. “I...I-I have to. I deserve it…,”  
”Wh-what?” I just about fell right on my ass from the ridiculous thing Gerard just said. “No, you don't! What the hell are you talking about? Why would you say that-”  
”B-because…,” Gerard cut me off, bringing his head down in shame. “You told me so. You're right. I do deserve it…,”  
”No, you don't!” I raised my voice, unaware of the fact that I might frighten Gerard again, which I of course would never wanna do to him. “You don’t deserve to be hurt by anyone, and that includes yourself! Come on, you know better than that!”  
”But you know it's true!” Gerard snapped, the tears he's been holding back getting the better of him. “I deserve it because I let myself hurt you again! I am just so pathetic, Frankie. I’ve lied to you so many times. I keep saying I'll never hurt you, but...I end up doing just that! I keep hurting the one person I love, the one person that means the whole world to me! What kind of person does that make me, Frankie? Huh?”  
Gerard buried his face in his hands again and began to weep. I really don't know what to say, to be honest. He has hurt me one too many times, despite all the promises he's made to not do so. He told me that he loves me, but what kind of love is it to constantly hurt someone? A very fucked up kind, I can say that much. But does that seriously mean Gerard deserves to be beaten black and blue because of it? No, of course not. Why? Because I love him too much to let that kind of thing happen to him. I took Gerard into my arms,letting him sob his heart out into my chest.  
”Why, Frankie?” Gerard sniffled. “Why do you keep coming back? Why do you keep coming back to me despite all I've done to you? You deserve better than this, Frankie! You deserve so much more than me!”  
”That's not true, Gerard,” I said, stroking his messy-haired head.  
”Why not? Tell me! Please give me one good reason why I'm wrong about that!”  
”Because...I just love you too much to let you go. I just love you too much to let you get hurt, Gerard. You don't need to be hurt...you need help,”  
p. You need to be fixed,”  
Speaking of help, I need to tell him. I need to let him know that I’ve made up my mind. I have to tell him that I’m indeed willing to help him hunt down Cecil and Irvine, as much as I still feel hesitant to do so. Helping Gerard murder someone, let alone two people, may as well equal throwing my whole life away, especially if we end up getting caught for the crime we’re both about to commit. But you know what? That doesn’t matter. I will not rest until Gerard is fixed, and Gerard will not rest until he gets his sweet revenge, and if that’s what it really takes for me to fully accomplish my mission to fix this broken man, then by all means, I’m willing to do it. This absolutely doesn’t mean that Gerard doesn’t ever need to seek professional help, though. Killing these two men will not make all of his psychological issues disappear like magic. After all, Gerard still does experience unpleasant flashbacks and nightmares of the abuse that was inflicted upon him from the Richardsons, even after getting payback on all of them by murdering all four family members is grisly and devastating ways. But after all the horrid things I’ve seen and been told about Gerard’s past that has corrupted him so much, I want to help him as much as humanly possible. I am by no means a psychiatrist or any other kind of mental health professional, but that doesn’t mean that within my power, I can’t help put him back together.  
“Gerard, listen to me,” I gently pulled his face up to mine, my fingers wrapped around his chin. I wiped at his tearful eyes, the both of them staring right at me. “There’s something I need to tell you…,”  
“Wh-what?” he sniffled.  
“I…,” I gulped, knowing that my whole life has yet to change at this very moment. “I’ll do it, Gerard,”  
“You…what?” Gerard looked at me like I just told him that I’m related to the queen of England. It’s like he thinks I’m pulling his leg, or that he just didn’t hear me right. “You…you what, Frank-“  
“I’ll do it, Gerard! I’ll help you kill Irvine, as well as Cecil,” I exclaimed, hoping I don’t have to repeat myself again. “I’ll…help you get your revenge,”  
“R-really?” Gerard’s whole face lit up, his eyes wide and full of joy. “Do you…really mean that? You’ll really help me…kill the men that k-killed…d-daddy and…m-mama?”  
“Yes, Gerard. I do mean it,” I paused. There’s something he needs to do for me. It’s for the sake of the both of us, especially his. “I will help you…but only under one condition,”  
“What’s that?”  
“I will help you if…,” I held out the little blood-stained cotton balls wrapped up in my hand, the ones I used to treat Gerard’s self-inflicted wounds. “You never, ever do this to yourself again. No more of this, Gerard. Do you understand me?”  
“Oh…,” The smile fell from Gerard’s face, turning into a frown of utter doubt. He bit his lip, clearly frustrated with what’s just been laid out to him. “But Frankie…that’s not gonna be easy for me,”  
“I know it isn’t, but it needs to stop,” I sighed, already getting annoyed with how stubborn Gerard can be sometimes. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Nothing is worth hurting yourself over, just like nothing is worth taking your life over. I don’t wanna see you hurting yourself anymore. You are too precious to do this to your beautiful self,”  
“Frankie…I understand what you’re saying, but…there’s a reason why I hurt myself,”  
“Well, there shouldn’t be! There’s no reason to ever harm yourself, and this is coming from someone that used to frequently cut his own wrists as a teenager. You shouldn’t be mutilating yourself like this! You don’t deserve this, Gerard! I’ve already made that clear to you, didn’t I?”  
“You did, but…,” Gerard paused, looking defeated.  
“But what?”  
“There’s another reason why I’ve always hurt myself like this, Frankie. It’s helped me,”  
“With what, Gerard? How can hitting yourself in the face all the time possibly-“  
“It makes them go away…,” he hugged himself, hanging his head down in shame.  
“Makes what go away?”  
“Hitting myself makes…,” he sighed deeply. “It makes the voices in my head go away. It makes the bad memories go away. It makes all the chaos in my head vanish. The more I hit myself, the more it makes the voices stop talking to me and laughing at me. I have to fight them off to make them stop. It’s the best I can do, Frankie. I know you’re mad at me for doing this, but there isn’t a better way for me. There never has been. I’m sorry…,”  
“It’s okay, Gerard. That’s why I’m here. I wanna help you,” I smiled, stroking the side of Gerard’s face, my fingers running over his bruised skin. He of course smiled back, his bruised face visibly blushing. “I wanna make those voices go away,”  
“I know, Frankie. I know you do, but…how will you go about doing that?”  
“Well…,” I leaned in closer to him with my face so close to his, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck, sitting my body on top of his lap. “I am no professional in psychiatry, but maybe this will help…,”  
Our lips locked, our breaths growing heavier with every second that passed us by. It’s felt like forever since my lips have been blessed with Gerard’s, and it feels so good beyond words to taste them once again. I’ve also been missing how Gerard moans a lot while we kiss. I love the sound of it. It’s music to my ears.


	19. Cemetery Drive

The past week and a half has consisted of me and Gerard planning our trip to New Jersey, from what motels we’ll be expected to stop at along the way, and so on. We then spent a couple of nights getting everything packed up. Based on how far our final destination is from us, we’re gonna be making a lot of stops…which means it’s gonna be a long-ass road trip (and a lot of money spent on gas for the rental car we’ll be picking up soon, amongst other things like food and hotel fare). Apparently Gerard has hidden away a large sum of cash from all his previous years spent out on the streets snatching wallets from irresponsible and unsuspecting townspeople, and saved it up over a long period of time, every last cent of it all just for this big experience for the both of us, especially himself. He also managed to get his hands on a fake ID and stolen credit card, all thanks to the deep web, something I wouldn’t want to touch with a hundred foot pole, knowing all the messed up shit on there. I just don’t know how Gerard is so capable of all this risky business. He’s got some serious guts to pull off stuff like that.  
It wasn’t long before Ray and Mikey caught wind of what we were doing, so we fibbed to them, saying that we’re going on a road trip to visit my family, rather than heading out to fucking kill someone. I wasn’t the one that came up with that lie, it was Gerard. I don’t think I would have been able to come up with a more convincing lie than he did, because just the mere mentioning of my mom and dad still doesn’t sit well with me. Would I ever bother to go back to see them again, after all they’ve done to me? Some would say hell no right off the bat if they were in my position, but there’s something unknown to me that’s preventing me from saying that. I never really took the time to think what exactly it is; I’ve been too busy helping Gerard get ready for our trip.  
On the morning we were supposed to head out, Gerard woke me up hella early with a serving of pancakes and hot coffee. I was easily able to tell by the amount of effort Gerard put into cooking breakfast for us, as well as how well-dressed he looked in his white shirt and black tie and pants that he was indeed in a very pleasant mood. He was walking around the house nearly jumping with joy as he did some last-minute packing up. I know I should be just as happy seeing Gerard in such good spirits, but it’s the reason that’s got him all worked up that’s pretty unsettling for me. Gerard’s treating this whole thing as a Hawaiian vacation while I’m still nearly scared outta my damn mind. We are sure as hell not going on any getaway vacation or a family get-together; we’re going out to literally kill someone, and I must say, I am still not prepared…at least, mentally I’m not.  
“Taxi’s here, Frankie. You ready?” Gerard called from upstairs.  
“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few. Let me just make sure I’ve got everything,”  
“Alright. I’ll start loading up the trunk,”  
After doing a final check through my bag to make sure I have all my things, especially my toothbrush and some clean clothes, I headed upstairs with my one and only bag, compared to the three or four big and heavy ones that Gerard decided to take with him. I’m almost convinced he’s taking his whole damn wardrobe with him. Seriously, did he pack nothing but rocks in those damn bags or what?  
“See you later, guys!” Ray waved, smiling brightly as he walked past me down the hall. “When will you guys be back?”  
“We won’t be gone for long. Only a few days. We should be back by Wednesday afternoon, if not sooner than that,”  
“Alrighty then. Have fun! You guys be safe, okay?”  
“Thanks, Ray. Will do-“  
“Frank?”  
I nearly jumped when I heard someone behind me call my name and tap my shoulder. It’s Mikey, standing near the front door and blocking my path. I can tell by the concerned look on his face that something’s up, and it definitely has something to do with his brother, who’s now waiting patiently for me in the back seat of the cab.  
“Oh, hey Mikes. What’s up?”  
“Frank…I hate to be a bother, but…I really need to ask you something,”  
“What’s that?”  
“Are you...like, really sure this is a good idea? Gerard’s really never done this kind of thing, you know,”  
“What do you mean?”  
“What do you mean ‘what do you mean’, Frank?” he scoffed, looking at me like I was speaking some foreign language to him that’s beyond his knowledge. “This whole vacation thing is way more than just a walk through Juarez Park for him. He’s obviously gonna be away from the house for a long time, and you how much he’s…well, secluded himself, right? Are you sure he’s prepared for this?”  
“I think so. He seems really excited about it, actually. He should be fine, just as long as I’m around,”  
“Alright then, if you say so, but…” he paused, flashing me that same deeply concerned look, so much that it’s like he’s outright scared for my life. “Can you really say that for yourself, knowing how he is?”  
That actually is a question really worth considering. Mikey does have a good point there. Gerard’s never been so far away from the house in...well, ever. Why would he all of a sudden freak out being in the outside world, knowing that this whole “trip” thing was his idea? Surely he would have gained up enough courage to step outside and be away for a long time if he really wanted to do this. Maybe that’s not what Mikey is really worried about, but more like the fact that I would pretty much be alone with Gerard, a man that’s (let’s be honest here) not all that well in the head, out and far away from our home here in New York. I would be driving with this man, as well as sleeping with him in various motel rooms, and most of all, killing a certain individual with him. Of course, Mikey doesn’t know about that last bit, but he still is well aware of the fact that leaving the state with Gerard is a pretty risky, and maybe even foolish thing to do.  
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, Mikey. I’ll keep him safe...or, the both of us, actually. I’ll be sure to keep him in check,”  
Mikey stayed silent for what seemed like far too long, until he shut his eyes and slowly nodded his head, taking in my words of reassurance. I don’t think he looks fully convinced, but it’s not like he can fight it. Gerard is waiting for me. I have to get going soon before both the cab driver and Gerard lose their patience, whichever comes first.  
“Alright,” he nearly whispered. “Be safe, then. But please, for the love of fuck...keep me updated. I’ll be texting you to check in with you guys. And god forbid, if anything happens...please let me know asap, okay?”  
“I will,” I headed past Mikey and straight for the front door, knowing that Gerard can only wait so long until he begins to think something’s up. “See you later, Mikes,”  
“Please be careful,” he replied, before I nearly dashed out the door and into the backseat of the taxi with Gerard. I swear I can still feel Mikey’s hard and serious hazel-eyed gaze still on me through the front window of the house, peeking right at me from behind the curtains.  
“You alright, baby?” Gerard inched closer to me in his seat, brushing his hand over my reddening cheeks and pushing away my black bangs from my face.  
“Yeah, sorry about that. Just a little nervous, that’s all,” I smiled uneasily, saying only half the truth of why I’m such an anxious mess.  
“I know. Me too, sugar pop,” he said, leaving a brief peck on my gradually reddening cheeks.  
“Alright folks,” the cab driver, a heavyset dark-skinned man with an Indian accent that’s thicker than honey, turned to us. “Where to?”  
“Take us to the Enterprise car rental center right off Queens street, the one right next to the laundromat,” Gerard replied.  
Holy shit. It’s Gerard’s first time speaking to someone that’s not me, Mikey, Ray, or Bob (or even the voices he hears in his head), and he didn’t freak out. Maybe Gerard was right. Perhaps he really is ready to further step outta his comfort zone, away from the world in his basement he’s lived in for so long. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was ready to go through with this, I guess. He’s just been so full of surprises lately, many of them good...let’s just hope it stays that way, though I know in the back of mind it won’t, unfortunately.  
“Right away,” the cab driver said, punching in the address of our first destination in his GPS, followed by pulling out of the driveway and on to the street leading out of the neighborhood.  
As we pulled out into the main roads and into traffic, it just suddenly hit me, like an oncoming freight train colliding into me. This is it. Our journey has begun. We’re on our way to hunt down Irvine, one of the people that’s on the top of Gerard’s kill list. Holy fucking shit, I am shaking. I can feel it. I’m sweating, too. I can hardly breathe. I am literally steps away from gasping for air. Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with me-  
“Baby,” Gerard soothingly whispered into my ear, taking my jittery hand into his gentle one. “It’s alright, Frankie. I’m here,”  
_ _ _  
I still had to regain myself when we got the the Enterprise. I sat down my pathetic, anxiety-stricken ass on one of the withering, uncomfortable chairs in the main lobby while Gerard spoke with the man at the front desk to pick up our rental car. I closed my eyes and began to breathe; not like the frantic huffs that have been escaping from my mouth for the past god knows how long, but actual slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down. As I meditated, I felt Gerard’s finger tap me on the shoulder, interrupting me and making me jump a little. It’s okay, though. It’s just him. Seeing his face is always so reassuring for me...at least, most of the time.  
“You alright, Frankie?” he asked, the car keys of our rental vehicle dangling from his fingers.  
“Yeah, sorry about that...just tired,” I fibbed, to which Gerard didn’t buy at all, based off the unconvinced smirk on his face.  
“If you say so. C’mon, let’s go get our car,”  
I followed Gerard with all our luggage to the car garage outside of the main building, stopping at a black 2003 Honda Civic in the midst of the many other cars, trucks, and SUVs amongst us in the large vicinity. Before Gerard could unlock our car with the key fob, he suddenly glanced up at me, looking like he wants to say something, but just can’t put his words together.  
“Uh, Frank…,” he said hesitantly. “Do, ah...do you drive?”  
“Who, me? Yeah, of course. Why?”  
“Oh, good...oh, no--I-I mean...okay,” he stuttered, his mouth clumsily stumbling over his own sentence.  
“What’s the matter, Gerard? You don’t drive?”  
“No, I do,” Gerard nodded defensively. “Don’t worry, I do drive, but...I was just wondering if you wanted to drive first, then I will when we make a stop or something, like at a gas station or a rest stop, you know?”  
“Umm, sure?” I cocked my head to the side. “I don’t mind, just as long as you give me directions from the map,”  
“Alright, cool beans. You should be alright for a while. Once we pull outta here you’ll stay on the same road for the next ten twenty or so miles til we hit the highway off Main street. I’ll let you know when to turn and stuff,” Gerard said, handing me the keys. “I feel much more comfortable with you driving right now instead of me. It’s been too long since I’ve last driven,”  
“That’s alright,” I lied, hoping to god that Gerard doesn't get us into an accident when he eventually does take the wheel. I turned on the ignition and started up the engine, driving ourselves out of the car garage and back out on the main roads. I must say that I am still shaking and on edge, the anxiety still getting the better of me. I can only hope that that doesn’t lead to us ending up both in the hospital instead of whichever motel we’re supposed to stop at for the night. In an attempt to distract myself from the immense perturbation I was feeling, I turned on the radio, which played some indie-rock station, but I have no idea what song is playing, or even who the artist is. Meanwhile, Gerard gazed in awe out the window, taking in the outside environment he’s shunned himself from for years. It isn’t much of a pleasant view, really. After all, we are driving through the armpit of New York City, where I’ve spent the last god knows how many years living in alleyways, using cardboard boxes and newspapers as a bed. None of that matters to Gerard, though. He still looks so swept off his feet, despite the outdoor view being nothing but graffiti-covered walls and trash-littered roads, amongst other things that make up a typical ghetto. I think that Gerard just really has a thing for taking in the world around him, foreign to the one he’s confined himself to in his basement.  
“Kittens!” he exclaimed joyously, pointing to a giant billboard advertising cat food when we drove past it. The big sign, of course, depicts a bunch of cats, surrounding the bag of advertised cat food, with the phrase “so kittylicious!” written under it. “Oh my god they’re all so precious, Frankie! They’re so cute!”  
“Yeah, sure,” I laughed, highly doubting I’ll ever meet anyone that gets so excited over billboards as much as Gerard. He’s just so easily impressed that it’s kinda cute to see. It’s not even some exciting-looking movie poster he’s getting all jolly over. It’s fucking cat food, for christ’s sake! “You are really are a weirdo, Gee. But in a good way, y’know?” I continued, pulling up to a stop at a red light.  
“I know, Frankie. I am fucking weird, I know that-” Gerard’s voice came to a halting silence, all the liveliness and joy disappearing right before my eyes. In fact, he looks anything but happy now. He looks horrified, actually. It’s like someone just slapped him clean across the face, leaving him in a mute state of utter devastation. “O-oh…,” he uttered under his breath, seeming to sink into his seat, looking so forlorn and defeated still staring out the window.  
“Gerard? What’s wrong?” I turned to him, hoping and praying I don’t have to pull over, god forbid he has another one of his dreaded episodes. The worst that can happen is just that while I’m driving. Of course, Gerard didn’t say anything, of fucking course. He just kept his eyes glued out the window, gazing out at the cemetery just across from us. What happened to him to make his mood change so dramatically? Did he see something that-  
Oh...that must be it…  
Fuck me. It’s the cemetery that’s snatched away that smile from his face and the life from his eyes. He saw it and was greeted with more bad memories, probably of all the loved ones he’s lost right in front of his own eyes. Both his parents and his grandmother are all in a place like that, buried six feet under the ground with their names marked on their flower-adorned graves. Goddamnit, I should’ve known. How the hell did I miss that? Good lord, Frank. You’re a real dumbass. We’re still at the fucking stop light, no thanks to the heavy traffic, and that of course doesn't help the situation we’re now in, especially Gerard. It’s just like pouring salt on an open wound, that wound being the graveyard reminding Gerard of his immense grief and longing for his late mom, dad, and Elena.  
“Gerard...I’m really sorry,” I said from the bottom of my heart, feeling half-tempted to let go of the wheel and take Gerard into a loving hug. I can’t, though. I need to drive, and like I’ve said before, a car accident is one of the last things that needs to happen to us. “I really am. I know you miss them a lot,”  
“You’re right. I really do…,” Gerard replied sullenly, his lackluster eyes still not breaking contact from the graveyard. When the red light finally changed to a green one after a painstakingly long time, Gerard looked back up at me. “Frankie...there’s something I need to ask you,”  
“What?”  
“After we get to the motel...there’s something I wanna do...if we have the time, that is...and if you don’t mind…,”  
“What’s that?”  
“I wanna…v-visit th-them…,”  
“Who?” I furrowed my brow. “Who do you wanna visit?”  
“I wanna see…,” he paused, his mouth stumbling over the words he just can’t seem to say without being reminded of those certain bad memories from that horrid day nearly twenty years ago. “D-daddy and m-mama...and-and Elena,”  
“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling bad for not knowing exactly what he’s talking about. How can he see them if they’re...well, gone? “What do you...like, mean by-”  
“I know they miss me, being in that damn cemetery for so long,” Gerard interrupted, as if he didn’t just hear out my perplexions. “I wanna...pay them a visit, Frankie,”  
Oh...that’s what he meant by “visiting” them. God, now I really feel like shit for being so naive. Damn it, Frank. You were right. You really are a dumbass.  
_ _ _  
I ended up driving the whole way to the motel, since there was no way in hell I was gonna ever let Gerard take the wheel with the distraught state he was in earlier. He just looked way to depressed and unmotivated to do almost anything. He wouldn’t even leave the car when we dropped by gas stations and rest stops. I’m surprised he finally got up and out of the car to help unpack and check in when we soon arrived at a local 2-star, “not too high-class but not too cockroach motel-ish cheap” Best Western. After doing all that, I took a shower and dressed in rather more formal clothes than the t-shirt and jeans I was previously wearing, in order to look less ragged next to the well-dressed Gerard. I wanna pay my respects to the people that Gerard held so close to him, and the least I could do was look presentable enough for the occasion of visiting someone’s dead relatives in a cemetery. We then drove about a half hour or so over to the Mount Prospect Cemetery, where Gerard quietly gave me the directions to off the map. When we arrived and parked the car outside of the front gates, I swear I could hear my heart pounding rapidly in my tightening chest. Why, though? Maybe because I’ve actually never been in a cemetery in all the twenty-three years I’ve lived on this planet, or maybe because in a strange way it does feel like I really am visiting Gerard’s parents and grandma as if they were all still alive and not six feet under.  
“There’s no need to be scared, Frankie,” Gerard said suddenly, seeing how much I must be shaking right now. “You alright, sugar pop?”  
“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go,” I replied, trying to quickly brush off how much of a nervous dunce I’m making myself look. We stepped out of the car and made our way through the tall black wrought-iron gate doors and into the graveyard, surrounded by the tombstones of probably a thousand deceased people, each and every one of them with a story of their own prior to their passing.  
“Good lord...just the way I remembered it. This place hasn’t changed at all,” Gerard walked on, pointing to a large oak tree off in the distance. “Come on. They’re all this way, straight up ahead near that big tree,”  
“Wait, you’ve been here before?” My eyes widened at the thought of coming in here more than once. I already don’t like the vibes I’m getting from this place. It just keeps hitting me over and over again that there’s dead people all around us, and I don’t know if that sits too well with me. It feels like in a way they’re watching my every move from under all the soil they’re buried under in a casket. This is what happens when you grow up on watching too many zombie and ghost flicks, I guess.  
“Of course, baby. I used to come here all the time, especially after...my grandma passed away,” he frowned. “I knew they wanted me to keep them company, so I would always stop by here to see them after school, before I had to return home to the hell-hole dubbed the Richardson residence. I would come here almost every day and sit by their graves and...talk to them, sometimes sing and draw too. It was my way of keeping myself safe from the bullies too, until they eventually found me here and gave me the same old fucking beating, right in front of...d-daddy, m-mama, and-and Elena. That’s when I knew I had to stop coming here, because those fucks found where I’ve been hiding all along. I had to relocate and hide somewhere else. There were times where they’d sit and wait for me to come to the cemetery, no matter how long it took for them until I’d finally arrive. I couldn’t even visit my parents or grandma without putting myself in danger. I had no choice but to stop coming here,”  
“Are you serious?” I felt my blood boil at the sight of those heartless pigs terrorize Gerard, let alone in front of his own deceased yet beloved family. Those assholes wouldn’t even let you mourn in peace?”  
“Of course not. They took every opportunity they had to use me as their punching bag, Frankie. They would even grab me by my hair and slam my head up against the gravestones. I’m surprised they haven’t killed me or left me a brain-dead mumbler doing so with all the times they’ve done that to me. It hurt like a bitch. That’s alright, though. They didn’t ever kill me, of course. If they did...I never woulda given them all what they deserved,” Gerard briefly smiled that familiar rubbery grin that just makes my skin crawl. Before he could go on about his complete obsession with getting his sweet revenge, he then stopped and turned to me, redirecting me with him to the big oak tree he pointed out to earlier, with three small granite gravestones standing under it in the cool shade. “There they are,”  
Gerard sat himself down cross-legged in the shade in front of the three engraved markers, motioning me to sit down next to him on the grass. I reluctantly did so, feeling like I really am meeting Gerard’s parents and grandma for the first time...well, sorta at least. I took a glance at the three of them, each one with their birth and death dates right under their full names.  
“It’s alright, baby. They don’t bite,” Gerard laughed a little, turning back to face the memorial stones of his fallen parents and grandma, holding out and introducing hand to me behind him. “D-daddy...m-mama...gramma...this is Frankie. Frankie...this-this is...d-daddy...m-mama...and-and Elena,”  
“Hi there...” I said awkwardly, going along with Gerard’s (sort of) family reunion. “Nice to meet you,”  
“Please don’t mind him,” he shrugged, still talking to the tombstones. “He’s a bit shy, as you can see. He’s a really good guy once you get to know him...in fact, he’s much more than just that, actually. He is...amazing. He’s done so much for me. He’s helped me through so much. He helped me grow, just like you guys did. He means the whole world to me,” He turned back to me, a warm smile on his face. “Isn’t that right, sugar pop?”  
Flattered, I smiled and blushed a bit, seeing Gerard talk so good about me in front of three people that he holds close to his heart. Before I could tell Gerard the same for how much he’s changed me, the smile on his face changed to a sad, bittersweet one as he turned back to face the graves of his fallen loved ones, his eyes on Donna and Donald Way’s.  
“D-daddy, m-mama...this man right here is gonna help me with something, just for you guys. He’s...he’s gonna help me get my revenge! He’s gonna help me give those bastards what they deserve, after all these years! Isn’t this great?” He exclaimed, his eyes tearful and voice choked by his held-in cries of twisted joy and mourning. “If it hadn’t been for him...this wouldn’t have been possible! We’re gonna find the monsters that killed you, and spill their blood! I could have been a better son, knowing the human wreck I was long ago, but now this is my chance! I’m gonna make you guys proud! I know I will!”  
As Gerard mourned, I just sat there silently right behind him, a million thoughts racing through my head. I really don’t know what to say. Gerard really loves his mom and dad so much that he’s willing to go as far as hunting down the people that were responsible for killing them many years ago. Is that not at all, I dunno, a little messed up? Sure, it is. It’s love, though. It’s very passionate. It’s a very twisted, extreme form of it, but in the end, it’s still genuine love. I seriously haven’t met anyone that holds their own mother and father in such a special place in their hearts as much as Gerard does. Who would go out of their way and sacrifice so much to kill someone, let alone two people, for the sake of avenging their parents? Definitely not a whole lot of people. Some people wouldn’t even give a flying fuck about what happens to the two people that took care of them and raised them since day one. Would I consider myself to be one of those people, after all my mom and dad have put me through for so many years? No, of course not. I don’t hate my parents. I hate what they’ve become. I hate what they’ve done to me. Mom and dad were not always these borderline authoritative, extreme conservatives that absorbed everything from their corrupt church like a sponge. Oh, no. They used to be far from that, when I was young and innocent, unknowing of the cruel and unforgiving world that I was sheltered from. The memories of our summer family vacations Ocean City in Maryland are still fresh in my head, as well as ones of mom reading a small me bedtime stories and dad taking me to the local park. They still wanted me to grow up believing in their sky daddy, making me go to church and Sunday school and all, but it was nothing beyond that, therefore nowhere as bad as it got when things turned sour as I grew older. I don’t even know what made them change so much; it all just happened out of the blue, around the time I was graduating from middle school. As the years went by, the family vacations stopped, as well as the motherly and fatherly love support I was received, and was instead pelted to death with nothing but scrutiny and unreasonable demands, many of them to do with how I wasn’t “good enough”. If I wasn’t constantly talked down to death and treated like shit, they flat-out ignored me, like I didn’t mean diddly-squat to them. They barely gave even half a fuck at my high school graduation. I wasn’t given even an ounce of praise from them. Nothing like “you made it” or “congratulations”, or even a “good job, son”; just nothing but disappointing silence and glances of indifference and boredom as I walked up to grab my diploma and shake hands. It was like I was nothing but an insignificant waste of space to them, nothing but a burden on their shoulders.  
Even after all these years, I still don’t know what went wrong. I still don’t know what made them change so much, from these loving parents that supported me and treated me like a son of their own, to these hateful bigoted sacks of degenerate scum that cared about their god much more than me? Was it because I was growing up, turning into my own person and not what they wanted me to be, as their ideal son? Am I right about that? Was that what made them change? Was that the reason why, like I’ve said and known before? Or, was there something going on that they’ve been hiding for me for so long? Whatever it may be, I need to know. My mom and dad have burned the bridge between us that I want to repair. Call me naive or a fool, but I’m willing to give them another chance. They are probably wondering where I’m at now, and what I’ve managed to do with myself since that wretched day they threw me out. Maybe they regret doing that to me. Maybe they want me to come home to see them, and make sure their one and only son is alright. Why do I want to do all this? Because I still love them. Not what they are now, but what they used to be, what they truly are, under all those lies they’ve been fed.  
“Gerard...can I ask you something?” I said.  
“What, sugar?” Gerard turned to me, his face raw and red from his tears. “What is it?”  
“Can we...do something, if we have the time, that is?”  
“What’s that?”  
“Can we...do the same for me, as you’ve done here?”  
“Hmm?” Gerard raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? What do you wanna do?”  
“I…,” I sighed, nearly forcing the words right outta my mouth. “I wanna see my mom and dad,”


	20. The World Is Ugly

“Frankie, are you really sure you wanna do this?” Gerard asked me for the seventeenth time as we drove to my parent’s house in the outskirts of Newark, New Jersey. This time he’s actually the one driving instead of me, and good lord...I thought I was a bad driver. I think Gerard has run through a dozen stop signs and has been flipped off by a ton of drivers passing us by since we left the cemetery. I don’t know if I’m more anxious and on the edge of my seat from either seeing my mom and dad for the first time in months, or the fact that Gerard could get us into a head-on collision at any given moment, landing the both of us in the hospital hooked up to a bunch of machines and being fed through a fucking tube. “I don’t really know if this is a good idea-”  
“I don’t care, I wanna do it, damn it!” I nearly screamed, hanging on to the handle bar above me for my dear life as Gerard slammed on the brakes, nearly hitting the car in front of us at the stop light. “Goddamnit, Gerard. Where the hell did you get your driver’s license at, a Cracker-Jack box?”  
“Geez, calm down, will you?” Gerard scoffed, not at all seeming to care about the reckless way he’s driving. “I told you it’s been awhile since I’ve last driven a car! Where’d you say your parent’s house was at again?”  
“It’s on Thomas road, in the Cedar Valley subdivision near the golf course. There’s a welcome sign on the right, hard to miss. I’ll tell you where to turn,” I said, the foul memories of the middle upper-class neighborhood I’ve grown up in coming back to me. Right outside the polluted, crime-ridden heart of downtown Newark lies the small town of Pencey Park, home to luxuries only the wealthy can afford, as well as a plethora of gold-digging spouses, nosy neighbors, hardcore bible-bashing conservatives, or people that are either any combination of those three or all of them. Pencey Park is where I’ve lived for all my life, raised by my mom and dad who shunned me from the forbidden land known as Newark, a city that’s obviously the polar opposite of the high-class money pit known as Pencey Park. They’ve always warned me of the danger that lurks there, the large vicinity riddled with nothing but crime and poverty. They talked of the place like it was another form of hell, this one on earth rather than in the fiery catacombs of...well, the actual hell where Satan and his demons reside. Although they were right all along about how downtown Newark actually is, seeing the pure desolation and depravity we’ve been driving through here, passing by a mass of run-down buildings and skimpy-clothed prostitutes standing out on the crumbling sidewalks, Pencey Park, in my eyes, is also hell, but in a different, more expensive form. It shouldn’t be hard for someone with even an ounce of common sense to know why a person like me would say such a thing about the town he’s been born and raised in for the past several years.  
It was around the time where we got stuck in moderately heavy traffic where Gerard slowed down and actually drove more decently, since the traffic-jam here right now is slower than molasses. When we did eventually get out of it, we were already crossing into Pencey Park territory before we knew it, driving past the giant welcome sign greeting us in an empty fashion. The big sign may as well say welcome to hell, because we are definitely there right now. I can already feel myself cringing in disgust as we passed by the many shopping centers, golf fields, and high-class restaurants. This place has barely changed. It still reeks of nothing but money. I can tell by the unpleasant look on Gerard’s face that he’s not happy with what he’s seeing either, the expression mixed with utter confusion and shock as well.  
“Jesus, Frank...this is just...fucking ugly. This is where you lived?” he asked, eyeing around the place as we slowly pulled up to stop light.  
“Yeah, unfortunately,” I sighed, lacking even a shred of dignity admitting the truth. “It’s a real shithole, as you can see,”  
“A shithole filled with money...and if this place is the shithole, then the people that live in it are the shit,”  
“You couldn’t have said it any better, Gee,” I laughed. Seriously, what a perfect analogy to describe this godforsaken place. We are surrounded by shit. I can already see the shit people in their shit luxury cars as they passed by us, staring at us with their shitty eyes, giving us shitty looks. Mom and dad were wrong. Newark wasn’t the forbidden territory, this place is, and we definitely are not welcome here. I could give a rat’s ass what these people think of me. They can give me their stupid glares all they want.  
Gerard went from smiles and laughs to dead silence, his hazel eyes wide and frantically scanning his surroundings. His whole body began to visibly tremble as his hands clenched tightly on to the wheel, with beads of sweat running down from his face that had lost what little color it had. It’s like something in his head just clicked, like the panic switch on his brain was turned on without warning.  
“F-frankie,” he gulped. “I...I don’t know if we should be here…,”  
“I know, I hate this place too. It’s okay, though. We’re almost at my parent’s house. The next turn is just a few blocks down-”  
“N-no Frankie,” he shook his head, lowering his voice to a cautious whisper. “That’s not what I mean. I think that...I-I-”  
“What?” I furrowed my brow. “You think what?”  
“Frankie...someone’s watching us. We’re being spied on. They all keep looking at me…,” Gerard suddenly gasped, his voice full of paranoia-stricken fear. “Oh, god...oh my god...what if...wh-what if...what if there's spies here? What if...they sent them out to spy on me?”  
“Woah, woah...what? What are you talking about?” I asked, ironically already knowing the truth behind this sudden paranoia Gerard is displaying, but just not wanting to believe it. We’re not being spied on, but in Gerard's sick and delusional mind, we are. I know what's happening. The voices in his head are taking to him again, feeding him lies.  
“Don't you get it, Frankie? The authorities are out to get me, and you know it! They-” Gerard paused, his whole self coming to a screeching halt, including the shaking throughout his whole body. He shut his eyes, breathing in and out slowly, as if meditating himself in an attempt to make those obnoxious voices go away. “Never mind, baby. Forget I said anything. I’m sorry,”  
I didn’t say anything. I know I should get to the bottom of what was eating at him, hearing him talk about all this mumbo-jumbo with these so-called “spies” that are out to get him, but decided it's best not to bother. I can tell by the overall discomfort displayed in Gerard that those voices are still talking to him. I know damn well they are. It's like I can see through his discontent eyes that there's a constant war going in his head between his own self and the voices. I know deep down he's trying his hardest to keep himself from succumbing to them, but he can only do so for so long. Right now he has to keep driving and manage to not get us collided into a street light or someone's expensive car. We’ve got family to visit; more specifically, my family, who threw me away out on the streets, leading me all the way to the man taking me to them right now. I need to have them see how far their disowned gay heathen of a son has come since that dreaded day so many months ago.  
_ _ _  
The anxiety I experienced earlier at the car rental center came back to me twice as strong when we pulled into my mom and dad’s neighborhood, each mansion-like house with perfectly-mowed lawns looking almost the same as the house next to it. We are only a short distance away from my mom and dad, and I am fucking terrified. It’s gonna be so strange seeing them again, this time with my long-haired, not so straight boyfriend named Gerard. I don’t even wanna think about how my parents will react seeing me with another man. They could both end up dropping dead from utter shock, for all I know. After all, one of the last things they wanted for me was to be gay, hence the reason why they permanently kicked me out of the house. It’s not like I can just keep Gerard hidden in the car while I’m inside the house with them; they’ll know something’s up if they take a peek out the windows to see a strange man sitting in the front seat of a car that’s not ours. I also don’t wanna risk the possibility of Gerard getting himself hurt or in deep trouble behind my back. But how is Gerard gonna be around my own flesh and blood parents? I’ve got a bad feeling that letting them meet each other can possibly be just as foolish to do, even though at this point I have no other choice. It’s now or never. There’s no turning back.  
“You alright, sugar? You really don’t look so good. You look like you’re close to a heart attack,” Gerard took a good long glance at me with a great amount of concern as we turned on to the street of my parent’s house.  
“No, I’m fine. Just nervous, that’s all,” I breathed out deeply, trying in vain to recollect myself before becoming a mental wreck. All the effort I had built up to do so blew up in my face when we soon pulled into the parking lot of their blue house with white trim, all the memories of the past several years spent in it coming back to me all too fast. I buried my face into my shaking hands, my breaths growing heavy and painstakingly frantic as I felt my ribcage constrict around my hyperventilating lungs and racing heart. This is it. We are here. It’s all right in front of me, and I can barely get myself together.  
Oh my god. Maybe Gerard was right. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. I know I’m not dying, but it feels like I am. Holy fuck. I can’t breathe. I can’t speak. I can’t even think straight. I can’t-  
“Oh, baby…,”  
Every part of me was put on pause when I felt Gerard take me into his soothing embrace my body so desperately needs, his arms holding me tight up against his chest and stroking my hair. I know this familiar, almost unworldly feeling I always get when I’m this close to him. It’s like I almost forgot how good he feels, as well as how warm he is. I smiled, welcoming every ounce of it as I felt the chaos going through my mind and body slowly vanish, just like magic. I missed this feeling so much. It’s been too long. Gerard slowly took one of my hands into his, which I held on to for my dear life.  
“Be strong and hold my hand…,” he sang softly into my ear, reminding me of something familiar; it’s a part something he has sang to me before. “Time becomes for us, you’ll understand…,”  
“I’m sorry,” I said weakly, squeezing Gerard’s hand tighter as I felt the sting of tears come to my eyes. “I’m scared, Gerard. I’m fucking scared. I don’t know if I can do this,”  
“Yes you can, Frankie,” Gerard replied, wiping at my tearful eyes with his free hand. “You can do this. You’ve got this, baby. I believe in you,”  
“Are you sure?” I sniffled. “I don’t know, Gee. I don’t know if I’m as prepared as I thought I was. What if they haven’t changed their minds about me? What if they end up hurting me more? I can’t do it alone…,”  
“Well, that’s why I’m here,” he smiled warmly. “You don’t have to do it alone, Frankie. You don’t have to face them alone. I’m scared too, but you know what? That’s okay. At least you’re right here for me, just like I am for you. We’ll take this on together. I’ll be right here. I’ll never let them hurt you…,”  
“You p-promise?”  
“I promise,” he said, his face slowly inching closer to mine, his lips leaving a long kiss on mine. I sure as hell also almost forgot how much his lips are a true blessing, how amazing they feel to be touched by. When our lips parted, our eyes locked, his hazel ones staring deep into that one sacred thing behind mine that’s also radiating within his. “Remember what I told you, Frankie. I’ll never let them take that one thing from you. You do know what that one thing is, right?”  
“Yes, I do,” I smiled back at him, knowing exactly what he means. He won’t let them take the light behind my eyes. “Alright, Gerard. I’m ready. Let’s go,”  
As we both stepped out of the car and on to the asphalt of the front driveway, I immediately rushed to Gerard’s side like a moth to the light, grabbing his hand and holding it tight. He needs to be here with me, just like I have been for him. I’ve helped him through so much in the past, always holding his hand every single time. Now it’s his turn to help me. He’s gonna take me to them, never letting go of my hand.  
I took one last deep breath as we both made our way to the front door, my sweaty hand still hanging on to Gerard’s. I’m surprised I didn’t break it with how much I’ve been squeezing it under my shaky and tight grip. What baffles me just as much is how calm and collected Gerard looks compared to me. I was honestly expecting him to be as much of a nervous wreck as I am right now, if not worse. If anything, he looks only a bit on edge. I can see it in his slightly wide eyes that are constantly shifting uneasily from me, to the door, then back to me.  
“Should I knock?” he asked reluctantly, seeing me standing still like a shiftless dunce. I can’t even do as much as move a finger. I am still way too terrified to do anything, even with Gerard right beside me. I nodded silently, knowing that standing here and doing nothing will only delay the inevitable. It’s best to just do it and get it over with already. It was when I heard Gerard knock on the door, followed by the clicking of my mom’s heels from beyond, that I knew for a fact that there really is no backing out now. Everything, including time itself, seemed to have come to a complete halt when she turned the doorknob and opened up the door, our eyes meeting for the first time in what seemed like years ago. My still heart nearly burst right out my chest when I got a good look at her; it’s clear as day to me how much she’s changed so much. Her once well-kempt black-brown hair is now a disheveled greying mess. Her cream-colored youthful skin is now nothing but sags and wrinkles, and her previously lively hazel eyes now look as lifeless as the mounted deer heads from dad’s hunting trips hanging up on the living room walls behind her down the hall. Those eyes of her’s instantly changed when they came into contact with her one and only son, no longer alone and living in the slums.  
“Frank…,” she gasped, covering his wide open mouth with both manicured hands. “Oh my lord, Frank...my baby…,”  
“M-mom…,” I choked out, once again feeling the tears come back to me. I forgot how much I missed my mom...at least, the mom I knew and loved; the one that saw me as her son and not as a heretic. She nearly tackled me to the floor when she leapt forward and hugged me into an almost suffocating grip, the scent of her perfume so overpowering, flooding my mind with a countless amount of memories of us together, during the good days before her religion overstayed it’s welcome into her life.  
“Oh, Frank,” she cried, her sobby voice muffled in my shirt. “I thought you would never come home. We were worried sick about you...we thought we would never see you again...we thought that you were-”  
“Linda?” an annoyed and deep, masculine voice called out from the house, that said voice belonging to my father. I saw his tall figure emerge from down the hall behind us, his jaw nearly dropping to the floor when he saw all three of us at the front door.  
“Oh, honey,” my mother exclaimed to her husband in a mixture of joy and desperation, her tears smearing the mascara on her eyes.“He has come home. He’s come back to us, Frank! Our son made it home safe!”  
“Well, I’ll be damned…,” Frank Sr. said, walking up to us with his eyes as wide as his gaping mouth, turning to his son Frank Iero Jr. “Welcome back,”  
“Hi, dad,” I muttered uneasily, feeling on edge from everyone crowding around me. I can barely speak. I didn’t expect this kind of welcome home from my own mom and dad. Did they seriously miss me this much? I guess I was right. Maybe they really did regret what they did to me. It’s almost clear to me that they’ve been waiting for their son to come home to them for so long, despite how much they’ve cut him out of the family and left him to rot. Now that he’s home, this is their chance to say they’re sorry.  
“Where have you been all this time, Frank?” my dad asked in an interrogating matter, raising his voice. “We were worried sick about you! We thought that we’d never hear from you again! We were almost starting to think that you were dead! Where have you been while we sat here worrying about you-”  
“Now, Frank,” my mom cut him off, laying a hand on his tense shoulder. “Don’t overwhelm him. He just got here. We’ll get to all that later. Let’s just welcome him and…,” her voice trailed off as she turned to Gerard standing next to me, who thankfully didn’t explode into an anxious mess the whole time he stood face to face with my parents. “Who’s this young man right here?”  
Wait a minute? What does she mean by “all that”? All what?  
“I’m G-,” Gerard paused nervously, stopping himself from giving out his true identity, the last thing that he needs to do in front of outsiders. “I’m Jacob. Jacob White,” he said, giving out the name on his fake ID that also displays a fake photo, date of birth, and so on. Gerard/Jacob held out a rather forced hand to my parents, both of whom reluctantly shook it, knowing for a fact who this man really is to me, much to their inner dismay. Maybe I’m wrong about that, though. Maybe they did have a change of heart towards guys like me that aren’t attracted to the opposite gender, ever since they realized what they let themselves do to me. I want to believe that’s the case, but something deep down inside me says that it’s not. Something here just doesn’t feel right, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Something about this household hasn’t changed; something I’m familiar with and have avoided for the longest time like the plague.  
“Nice to meet you, Jacob,” my mom said, flashing possibly the most forced and artificial smile I’ve ever seen on anyone. She turned away with dad, the both of them walking down the hall, prompting us to follow them inside the meticulously tidied up and decorated house excessively adorned with anything related to their Christian beliefs, from crucifixes to pictures of Jesus and the disciples, to bottles of holy water and statues of angels and the Virgin Mary, and so on. “Please, come inside. Make yourselves at home,”  
The both of us hesitantly followed them, my stiff and shaking body following Gerard/Jacob right behind him, my hand still in his. I can tell by his slightly awkward and shy body language, as well as the discontent behind his dulling hazel eyes, that he’s desperately trying to keep his cool through the whole ordeal, but is faltering as a result. He knows something’s up too. I can see it in him.  
“Frankie,” he whispered to me as my parents turned the corner into the living room ahead of us, leaving us two alone. “I don’t got a good feeling about this. Something’s wrong here,”  
“Wh-what do you mean?” I stuttered, wanting to know exactly what he means. I can’t be the only one here that doesn’t feel all too well here in this place. It’s not the voices in Gerard’s head telling him that this place isn’t all that safe. It’s his gut feeling. I can’t just be way too paranoid about this whole thing. No fucking way.  
“Frankie...your mom and dad...they want something from you. They want us to-”  
“Boys?” my mom called out, her head peeking from the entryway leading to the living room. “You coming?”  
“Y-yeah, sorry,” I uttered, the two of us picking up the pace and following them into the massive family room to quell any suspicions they may have. My mother motioned us to sit down at the large black leather sofa aligned with three loveseats around it, all of them encircling a coffee table. We both did so, our bodies sinking into the cushions of the couch. Behind us stands a large stone fireplace, the wood inside of it kindling and crackling loudly within the flames. Right above it hanging up high is a decorative relic I’ve always kept my eyes away from ever since my parents decided to grace the vicinity with it--a desolate, bloodied Jesus nailed to a cross, his upturned face wailing in despair and agony. I immediately turned my face away, feeling bile build up in my stomach, as well as the handfuls of unpleasant memories it brought to me for more than two decades. I remember always being afraid to look at it ever since I was a little toddler, when my mom and dad first got the fucking thing from their honeymoon in Rome, Italy. I remember always screaming and crying, running away from it and cowering in the corner from crippling fear as I always felt it’s malevolent dead eyes beaming at me. I always feared that it would come to life in the middle of the night, crawling off it’s cross and sneaking up to my room to kill me in my sleep, but that fear of course grew off with age. It still gave me the chills as I grew older, though. Even to this day it nearly scares me shitless. I’ve gone several months without my eyes being cursed by it’s presence, and now that I’m back in it’s home, I’m starting to feel that nostalgic fear from my childhood come back to me, slowly but surely. Even Gerard doesn’t look to comfortable seeing his devastated eyes upon the godforsaken thing, not only because it likely reminds him of those dark times living with the Bible loonies dubbed the Richardson family, but because the crucified Jesus itself just looks that fucking creepy.  
“Would you boys like something to drink, like water or something?” my mother asked, pouring herself and dad glasses of what looks to be very high-class and expensive white wine over at the kitchen next door.  
“I’m fine,” I said, turning to Gerard. “How about you?”  
“No thank you,” he shook his head, his dismayed eyes still glued to the mangled Jesus hanging on the cross above the fireplace, his hand still tightly wrapped around mine. I should have known better that Gerard would react this way upon entering my family’s home that may as well be a very pricey-looking church rather than a casual fancy home. What amount of confidence he may have previously before entering my mom and dad’s house seemed to have vanished in the blink of an eye when he found himself in a rather unpleasant territory, filled with a plethora of religious paraphernalia that remind him of all those dark memories of his past of abuse and deprivation.  
“Well, my son…,” my dad said abruptly in his low voice, returning to the couch with my mom, glasses of wine in their hands. “We’ve got a lot to discuss here. All four of us,”  
”O-oh...really?” I gulped, feeling my hand tighten around Gerard's, as well as his around mine. Now we’re both scared shitless. Why do my parents wanna involve Gerard in this “family discussion” so much? They’ve barely known him for a half-hour! I've never even stated to my parents who Gerard is to me exactly, even though the sight of us holding hands kinda gave it all away. This isn't good. What if they start asking questions to Gerard/Jacob some questions right off the bat about his personal life? What if they make him uncomfortable, triggering him to have a psychotic episode in the process? Oh, I hope to fucking hell none of that can and will happen. The last thing that needs to happen is another one of those, let alone in front of my closed-minded and bigoted parents. I can't even begin to imagine the millions of horrible outcomes that can happen right here upon the wake of Gerard's trauma-induced psychosis.  
”Of course, Frankie. We want to know what happened to you while you were gone all these months! Why wouldn’t we wanna know?” my mother exclaimed, to which I sort of shuddered a little inside, holding back my inner profound annoyance. No one calls me Frankie. Not even my own mother. Only Gerard, and no one else. He’s the only one that can call me that name without making me wanna hit something.  
“Please, son. Tell us. Tell us where you’ve been,” my father commanded, rather than pleaded in that familiar deep, yet intimidating voice he has. I know when he uses that tone of voice that he wants something done, and done now. I know what both my mom and dad want; they of course want to know how I’ve managed to not die out on the streets, but they also want to know who the hell this man is I’m holding hands with, this “Jacob White” (a.k.a Gerard Way) that’s in their house. They already know what he is; they already know he’s more than just a mere friend of mine. Now they want to know more about him. They want to know what kind of man--instead of woman--has been kissing and sleeping with and sodomizing their one and only son, even though that last bit is not true...at least, to me I know it isn’t, but of course, that’s not what their ignorant gay-hating minds believe. I sadly know my parents all too well that way.  
“Tell us everything, Frankie,” mom joined in, the both of them practically ganging up on the two of us with how much this has changed into an interrogation rather than a harmless family get-together. I can feel their eyes on me, even though I can’t even bear to look at them. I am just too scared. I’m too scared to even look at mom and dad. I’m too scared to even speak. I’m too scared of everything.  
Fuck, what can I tell them? Do I tell them that I really have been homeless, living out in the armpit of New York City until my cross-dressing (and very likely also gay) friend Ray/Ramona decided to pick me up and have me live with him and his pals back at his house, working a full-time job at a rock concert venue, having a relationship with a mentally disturbed basement-dweller and sociophobe, who also so happens to be an escaped mental patient and serial killer with a never-ending hard-on for revenge? No, of course not. No way in hell can I tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, especially about Gerard/Jacob. Where do I even begin here? I really didn’t come prepared for this. Maybe Gerard was right after all. Maybe I really didn’t think things through about seeing mom and dad again, face to face. I can already feel that inner anxiety just eating at me from the inside of my head, ready to throw me into a complete mess of shaking and sweating and stuttering and crying. Oh, no. I’m such a disgrace. I can barely even say anything to my own mom and dad. I can barely face them, despite telling myself before that I can. Do they even see how hard this is for me? Do they even notice how much of a mental wreck their son is right now? Do they even care? Goddamnit. What the fuck is wrong with me? What do I do-  
“He’s been living with me, as well as my younger brother and a couple of friends,” Gerard/Jacob said suddenly, his hand once again giving mine another tight, reassuring squeeze. He squeezed it to let me know that he’s right here with me, just like he told me earlier in the car. He knows I can’t speak for myself...so he’s gonna do it for me. He is defending me. He told me he’ll never let them hurt me, just like he promised. “He was homeless, living in New York City until Ray, a friend of ours, picked him up and offered to have him move in with us. He also got himself a job working at a local concert venue, where there’s shows and all that kind of stuff. I remember it was somewhere in November he moved in...and well, that’s how we met, pretty much,” Gerard flashed me a brief reassuring smile as he turned to face me, his thumb stroking the top of my hand that he’s still holding in his.  
“I see,” dad nodded, not looking pleased in the slightest. At least, to me he doesn’t. He’s never looked impressed with anyone, myself especially. He then suddenly turned over to me with a raised eyebrow. “Frank...do you like it there?”  
“Well…,” I sighed deeply, knowing sooner or later I’d have to speak up. I know Gerard can’t do all the talking for me. They’re my parents, after all. “Yeah, I do. I really like living there. Everyone is so chill there, especially this guy right here,” I playfully nudged at Gerard/Jacob next to me with my elbow, trying my best to cover up my obvious awkwardness and social anxiety. “It’s just like living in my own home, y’know? Job’s really good too. Pay is good and all, especially since I have to help pitch in for rent, but it ain’t much. It’s hell of a lot better than the last job I had over at that department store, too,”  
“So...does that mean you like living there better than here, with your own family? Must be like living at the Taj Mahal over there, huh?” My dad asked in possibly the most condescending tone possible with just as much weight as what he just said to me. I am just absolutely floored. Gerard looks the same way too, like he couldn’t believe what my own father just threw at me. There’s no way I can take something like that with a straight face. Of course I like living with Gerard and the others back in Jersey. At least there I’m not scrutinized for my sexuality, constantly being put down by my Bible-brainwashed parents. At least there, in the eyes of everyone else living there, I am good enough, unlike what I’ve been told by the two others living here, those words mainly coming from my father. I am still not good enough for him, and I never was. He’s pushing my fucking buttons, something he’s done to me far too many times in all the years I’ve lived with him and mom.  
“Now, Frank,” my mom sighed, turning to her condescending pain in the side of a husband, laying an apologetic hand on his tense shoulder. “No need to be so offensive-”  
“No, Linda,” dad swatted mom’s hand away, venom spewing from his sharply loud voice. “We need our son to come back home. There’s so much that needs to be fixed here, and you know it. We need to correct where we all went wrong,”  
That’s when I felt my heart sink into my stomach. Me and Gerard may as well have walked out in the middle of the road, waiting for a semi-truck to hit and smash us to pieces. Now I know for a fact he was right. This really was a bad idea. What the fuck was I thinking? I came here with the intention to look back at what went wrong, but not like this. I also came here for closure from what’s happened, but of course, there’s no sign of that ever coming, not at this rate. Above all that, I came back home to mom and dad to show them how much I have risen above where I started when I was thrown away out of the house that dreadful day, but what’s the use?  
“Frankie, what we’ve been wanting to tell you is…,” mother paused, looking defeated and caving in, taking another gulp from her wine. “We want you to come home. We want to start over. We want to me a happy family again, and...we can’t do it without you,”  
“What? What do you mean?” I asked, completely dumbfounded how such a thing can possibly happen; just as how dumbfounded Gerard looks from seeing how much of a mess of a family I’ve been living with before meeting him. “What do you mean ‘without me’?”  
“Don’t you get it, son?” dad waved his arms out, nearly spilling over his glass of wine. “We want you to come home! We want you to return to us so we can be a whole family again! What we did was irrational, and...we’re sorry. That was wrong of us. We just want you to come back to us so we can start all over from scratch,”  
“We want our son back, Frankie!” mom chimed in, her and dad not at all seeming to absorb anything I just told them before about me living with roommates, one of them being my (pretty much official) boyfriend. I’ve already started my life all over again there, and they don’t seem to notice or even care. “So much has changed since you left. Your father and I haven’t been getting along lately, and we realized it’s because...we knew something was missing, and it was you, Frankie,”  
“Wait a minute…,” Gerard/Jacob’s head shot up from the silent trance of utter shock and disbelief he was in just seconds ago, his hazel eyes beaming with as much bitter disgust as he has in his raised voice. “Frankie didn’t leave the house...you both threw him out like he was a piece of garbage, and now you want him back?”  
Oh no...oh god...please, no….No, Gerard. Don’t get involved. Please, for the love of fuck, don’t get them started. Just stay out of it-  
“Excuse me, young man!” my father roared, slamming his glass of wine hard down on the table, nearly making it shatter all over the place. “Just who the hell do you think you’re talking to-”  
“A bigoted piece of shit that doesn’t accept his own son for who he is! You two only want him back so that you can mold him into the perfect straight son you’ve always wanted!” Gerard snarled, his whole self slowly transitioning into full-out rage mode, his hateful gaze piercing right through my mom and dad. “Frankie told me everything! You both never loved him for who he really was! You only cared about what you wanted him to be in your own fucked up image! You treated him like a dog rather than an actual fucking human being!”  
“Gee, stop it!” I lunged for Gerard, grabbing at him and begging him to just stop, even though I know in the back of my mind it’s too late; the damage has already been done. My mom and dad have already been exposed and called out for what they’ve done, and it’s easy to see, especially in dad, who by this point is literally red and fuming.  
“Just who in the hell do you think you are, punk?” he screamed, looking ready to tackle Gerard to the floor and start a full-out fistfight with him. “All we wanna do is save our son and bring this family back together!”  
“Honey, just calm down-” my mom attempted to reach out for dad again, only to have her fragile hand swatted away again, this time much more violently, so much that it made her drop and spill her wine glass all over her shirt, as well as the leather couch they’re sitting in, She gasped, wincing and backing away in defeat from her unstable and raging husband.  
“Shut up and stay still, Linda! Let me do the talking!” he hissed, his eyes focused on his next target sitting in front of him, that said target being the man sticking up for me as I sat there silently, feeling the faucets to my eyes being turned yet again to pour out more tears.  
“M-mom...is it true?” I turned to her, barely able to even speak a word under all my sobs. “Is that all you two want me for, just to...change me?”  
“Frankie…,” my mom frowned. “All we wanna do is help you. This...thing you have with being...well, homosexual...it’s a sin, and we need to get you some help. We found a counselor for you that can do just that for you,”  
“That’s right, son. We need to take you back from this...this venomous filth you’ve put yourself in!” my dad said, turning his head to Gerard as he called him such a thing. “We need to fix you, Frank,”  
“How can you fix something that’s not even broken?” Gerard stood up tall from the couch, his body guarding over me like a mother wolf protecting her pups with all her life. “You’re the ones that broke him when you threw him out and left him for dead, and I’m the one that fixed him from that. We gave him a home when you took that very thing away from him. He was broken from all you’ve done to him, treating him like he was a worthless piece of trash, like he wasn’t good enough for you! He wasn’t broken because of him being...well, different. In fact, that’s what made him beautiful, and you didn’t see that in him. You know what Frankie did for me after I fixed him? He…,” Gerard paused, bravely not even attempting to hold back the tears running from his eyes. “He fixed me! He gave me a reason to not be afraid to keep on living. He gave me a reason to keep running and keep fighting! Your son is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Mr. and Mrs. Iero. How can you two not be proud of him for that? Well? He doesn’t need some fucking counselor to help him pray the gay away. He doesn't need to be straightened out. He doesn’t need to be fucking fixed anymore. He’s beautiful just the way he is in this ugly world!”  
I think Gerard just won the fight against my dad, seeing how he’s left him speechless, losing his steam. He’s literally ripped him apart from all the layers of shield his prejudiced and spineless self has been hiding under all this time, leaving him weak and at a loss of words. My mother next to him is sobbing, covering her made-up face in her hands. She knows she’s failed to bring her one and only son back to her, but what would she be attempting to bring him back to? Something I sure as hell wouldn't want to come back home to. There’s no point. They haven’t changed their minds about me. I am still nothing more than a low-life queer to my father, and Gerard helped me open up my eyes to that. As for my mother, she’s no better. How can she really love her son if she’s willing to stick by what her husband says? If she really cared for me, she would know that I am not a broken gay mess, unlike what dad sees me as. I honestly feel pathetic for abandoning her, considering what might be happening to her behind closed doors, but what exactly am I abandoning? I really am nothing to them. I’m insignificant. So much, that it makes me succumb to my own tears that I’ve barely been able to hide.  
“You know what? Get out! The both of you!” father angrily shouted, forcing us out the front door with his venomous words as Gerard scooped me up in his arms, walking me out the door with him as father’s words continued to boom throughout the whole house, stabbing me in the chest again and again as I continued to cry in defeat. “You are nothing to us, Frank! You’re hopeless, just an ugly and pathetic lost cause! If you want to keep on following Satan’s path with this...this freak of yours that you love so much, then by all means, go ahead! Just don’t come back to us when you finally realize what it’s done to you! You can drop dead and rot in hell for all I care!”  
Gerard stopped dead in his tracks when he heard my father call him that certain five-lettered word he’s been called too many times; a five-lettered word that really gets under his skin. He turned his head back to face him one last time, his eyes wide and bloodshot from all the rage building up within them.  
“I’ve already been there, actually. I hope you like it hot, because I'll be seeing you there one day, asshole!” He growled before forcing me out the door with him and into the car. He then proceeded to rev up the engine of the car to life, speeding out of Pencey Park like a bat out of hell.  
_ _ _  
I couldn’t stop crying the whole ride back. That’s all I did the entire time Gerard drove. Every fleeting moment of what went down in my mom and dad’s home has been wired into my memory, playing over and over again in my head, making the tears never come to a halt. Every time I would close my eyes in a vain attempt to sleep the pain away, it would all just play again right in front of me, like something straight out of a horrid nightmare. I can’t fucking believe it. All I wanted to do was to see my mom and dad, just to be slapped across the face and pushed back down to the ground by their bigotry and distaste towards me. They still haven’t fucking changed after all this time. I’m still not good enough to them. I’m still the same old worthless faggot in their eyes. I am still an unloved, unwanted queer of a son. They still want me to change for their benefit, because in their eyes, I am nothing more than a heathen and a man-loving shitstain on the fabric of the family. Me being gay tore this family apart. It hurt me even more to see Gerard look at me with such remorse, seeing me weep like a cry baby. It’s all my fault that I made him upset again. I dragged him into this mess. I wanted to be strong for him in front of my own parents, just like he was for me. But I was far from that. I am too weak. I really am pathetic.  
“Frankie…,” he sighed, saying my name for the hundredth time on our drive back to the motel. “I am so sorry…you didn’t deserve any of that…,”  
“Why are you sorry, Gee? You didn’t do anything!” I nearly screamed, still unable to hold back my cries after all this time. I still can’t stop crying. It’s just too much. “I’m the one that should be sorry, Gerard! I’m sorry I put you through all that! They really do hate me, Gerard! I’m fucking nothing! I’m-”  
“Frankie!” Gerard slammed on the brakes, veering to the side of the road and away from traffic. I gasped, feeling my heart skip a beat. Oh, no. I made Gerard mad. What the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t do anything right.  
“Gerard...I’m sorry,” I curled up in the corner of the car and covered my tear-drenched face with my hands. “I’m sorry, Gerard. I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m sorry!”  
“Stop it!” he raised his voice some more at me, clearly annoyed. “Stop saying you’re sorry, Frankie. You did nothing wrong!”  
“How?” I refuted, feeling myself shake. “Give me one good reason, Gerard! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t be sorry! I should be sorry because I’m a goddamn idiot and a disappointment to everyone! I-”  
“Frankie! Stop it!” Gerard put his hands on my shoulders, shaking me as if trying to knock some sense into me. I froze, knowing I should just shut up when Gerard is this irritated. I looked into his eyes, putting my mind on pause. “I want you to stop right now! No more of this, okay? I want you to listen to me, okay? Do you understand?”  
“Y-yes…,” I sniffled, doing as he said.  
“Frankie…,” Gerard tightened his grip on my shoulders, his nails nearly clawing at my skin. I can see he’s close to tears. It’s clear in his faltering voice and his watering eyes. “You are not a lost cause. You are not pathetic. You are none of those things your parents told you you are. If I had another good and valid reason to hate your mother and father, I have one now. They’re nothing but a couple of fucking liars that can’t see how amazing their own son is!”  
“Gerard...I’m sorry,” I whimpered, my shaky voice still full of sobs I can’t hold back. “I’m sorry I put you through all that...I-”  
“Frankie, listen to me,” Gerard said, cutting me off. “This world...is an ugly fucking place. The world is an ugly place full of ugly people. The world is ugly...but you’re beautiful to me,” he whispered, silencing all the self-loathing calamity within me as he once again blessed my quivering lips with his. That’s when I felt my heart inside of me explode into a large mushroom cloud, my hands holding on to him with my dear life as our lips kissed each other’s again and again. I don’t think I’ve ever cried this hard kissing someone, but that doesn’t matter, because goddamnit, it feels so good beyond words. These aren’t the same tears I was crying before; these are tears of joy, and I’m not even gonna try to hold them back at all. I am a heathen and a queer, and I’m not ashamed of that.


	21. Thank You For The Venom

I managed to fall asleep for the rest of the ride back to the motel. It was around nighttime when we pulled into the parking lot. I sleepily opened my eyes when I felt the engine come to a stop, followed by Gerard getting out of the car and effortlessly scooping me up in his arms out of the car seat I was curled up in the whole ride back, carrying me back to our room like a mother holding her snoozing baby in her gentle arms. I guess that’s just one of the perks of me being incredibly short and lightweight for my age; Gerard can easily pick me up and cradle me in his warm embrace without dropping me on the floor like a wimpy clutz. He knows how much I fucking love it when he holds and carries me like this. He knows damn well that I need it after the hell we just put ourselves through at my mom and dad’s house. They tried to bring back their son to “fix” him into their ideal image as a straight guy that bends over to their every wish and command, but they failed. Besides, how can they fix something that’s not even broken, just like Gerard said? You just can’t fix being gay. However, there’s one thing that Gerard was wrong about in the heat of his argument with my father; Gerard hasn’t been fully fixed yet. To be honest, he’s still far from it.  
“Someone looks sleepy,” Gerard playfully whispered as he continued to carry me up to our room upstairs on the second floor. I gotta give him credit for not being lazy and taking the stairs instead of the elevator while lifting my approximately 5’4”, one hundred and forty-something pound body. Besides, I hate elevators. “How are you feeling, sugar pop?”  
You know what? How exactly do I feel? Not all that splendid, I’ll say that much. Aside from being tired, I still feel like shit after what happened earlier today. How the fuck can I live with knowing that the fact that my parents are a couple of prejudiced and homophobic assholes with shitloads of cash? Wanting to go and see them added up to be a complete waste of time. I thought after seeing them I could bring myself to forgive them for what they’ve done to me, but not ever forget it. Now I can’t do either of those things for them, knowing how much they’ve revealed their true colors to me. All these years they’ve tried to mold me into a heterosexual trophy son, just for their own benefit. Like I said before, I am nothing but a gay disappointment to them, but frankly, I could care less; I’d rather be that than something I’m clearly not.  
“Mmmm...tired,” I muttered, letting out a loud yawn.  
“I can see that,” he laughed. He opened up the door to our motel room and laid me down on the queen-sized bed, where I let myself sprawl out as he joined me, his body now right next to mine. For the life of me, I still can’t get over how good he smells and feels. I breathed in that familiar scent of nicotine on him, feeling myself smile from ear to ear as I ran my hands through his long and smooth jet-black hair. Returning the favor, Gerard ran his warm hands through mine, locking his lips with mine once again. It wasn’t long before he soon stopped for a moment, his hazel eyes curiously scanning over my body, his hands making their way from my head to my chest, lightly tugging at my shirt.  
“May I?” he asked shyly, his modest self seeking my approval. I find it almost hilarious how he feels the need to ask, because that’s something he doesn’t need to do to me. We’re pretty much way beyond that point.  
“Go right the fuck ahead,” I laughed, bringing my arms up to let him proceed. As he peeled off my shirt to reveal my topless self, I went to town on his upper half, unfastening his black tie and buttoned-up white shirt. It was at that moment when, I swear to god, Gerard’s pale face turned as pink as a sweet pea. I took that same pinkish face and brought it back to mine, kissing it’s wet lips as it did the same to mine. With Gerard’s body pinning me to the bed, I brought my arms up and around his body on top of mine, slowly clawing up and down at his back. “Does that feel good, Gee?” I whispered under our non stop kisses.  
“Mmmm…,” he moaned, his lips digging deeper into mine. “Oh...oh my god...holy fuck…,” I can tell by just that that I don’t need a direct answer; he fucking loves it.  
Wait a minute...something doesn’t feel right...no, I take that back; it’s not that something doesn’t feel right, but just...off. I feel something within me, something I’ve experienced before. There’s something my body wants, and it’s screaming at me loud and clear. My body wants a particular, venomous something I’ve been kept away from like a widespread plague, no thanks to my overbearing parents and my shy, not-so-outgoing self. I remember feeling this before, and right now it’s as strong as ever. My body is craving forbidden fruit, and it can only be given to me if I give away something my antisocial, low self-esteem-having self has held on to for the last twenty-three years I’ve been on this planet.  
Gerard can give me that venomous forbidden fruit if I give up my virginity to him, and the only way that I can find out if that can happen tonight is if I ask him. I’m sick of being a virgin; what we did that time I sucked off Gerard doesn’t count; it’s official when I’ve finally had...well, my cherry popped, to put it lightly. I don’t want to give up my V card because of the stigma of being an unattractive loser if you so happen to be...oh, I dunno, in your twenties and have never had full-out sex with anyone; that I could care less about, because I’d much rather be that than someone who gives it up to some person whose name is unbeknownst to me and never see or hear from again, and god forbid, possibly catch some nasty STD from said unknown person. I want to give up my V card because when I do, in my eyes, I’ll be fully free of the shackles of conformity and ridicule my bigoted puppetmaster parents have kept me in for several years, as well as the social isolation and scrutiny I’ve been put throughout my years as a nearly friendless teenager with a sexual preference for people of the same gender as me. I’ll still be the same person named Frank Anthony Iero, born in New Jersey on Halloween of 1981 to Linda and Frank Iero Sr., just void of the previous shell I’ve been hiding in for so long after I give my purity up to a special someone. People say be smart and hold onto your purity until you find that said kind of person, and for me, I have found him, despite how much fixing he still needs.  
“Gerard,” I said, holding his blushing face close to mine. “There’s...something I need to ask you…,”  
“What, baby?”  
“I...I want you to do something for me,”  
“Oh...really?” he grinned, seduction in his eyes. “Anything for you, sugar. Go ahead, tell me what it is,”  
“I…,” I gulped, my mind elaborating the millions of ways I can say it to him. “I want you to…,”  
No. Wait a minute, Frank. What the fuck are you doing? Why are you asking this to Gerard? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you not remember what he’s been through? He was raped! Raped, for fuck’s sake! Don’t you dare ask him to fuck you, Frank. Don’t even let it cross your mind. Just tell him never mind!  
“O-oh…,” I looked down, hating myself for asking Gerard to do such a thing to me, after all that’s happened to him in the past. “Never mind, Gee. Forget it,”  
“No, what is it?” Gerard whined, bringing my frowning face back to his. “Tell me, what do you want me to do?”  
“I said forget it, okay?” I lightly pushed his hand away from my face, just begging him to do as I ask for once, something he seldom does. “Just pretend like I didn’t say anything, alright?”  
“No, Frank. Just tell me already,” he said, raising his voice a bit. Whenever Gerard calls me Frank instead of Frankie, I know damn well that means he’s either one of three things: pissed, annoyed, or sad, or even any combination of the three, or god forbid, all of the above. “What do you want me to do for you?”  
“Gerard...I can’t say it,” I sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. If I do tell you, then I’m scared that I’ll make you-”  
“No, Frank. Don’t even go there. Forget about me. Just tell me already!”  
Goddamnit, Gerard. You win...again. But trust me, you’ve been warned…  
“G-gerard,” I stuttered, not even wanting to think how he’ll react to me asking him this. “I...I want…,”  
“You want what, Frankie?”  
“I want you to...take my virginity. I want you...inside of me. I want you...to fuck me,”  
As I said those last two words, the look on Gerard’s face changed right before my eyes. He slowly let go of me, backing away from me with a look of utter dismay clear on his now pale face. I can almost see the horrid flashbacks of the day his body was violated and ruined playing in his corrupted head, and it’s all because of me. I’d be lying if I didn’t say he wasn’t warned, but I still feel like a pathetic piece of garbage for letting myself ask him anyway. It would have been better if the fucking thought never even crossed my stupid mind.  
“I’m sorry, Gee,” I said, reaching out to his now hurt and scared self. “I told you I shouldn’t have asked. This is exactly what I was afraid of-”  
“F-frankie…,” Gerard cut me off, the gaze from his hazel wide eyes staring straight through mine. “Are you...sure about that? Do you...really want me to...do that to you?”  
“Oh…,” I gasped, shocked that I didn’t trigger Gerard to have another one of his dreaded traumatic episodes. “Well...not if you’re uncomfortable with it, then no. I don’t wanna hurt you, Gee. I don’t wanna do what Jack did to you. I just wanna fix you,”  
“Oh, Frankie…,” he said my name again, that smile I love seeing back on his face. He cupped my face into his hand, his thumb stroking my now reddening cheeks. “You’re not gonna hurt me, baby,”  
“R-really?” My eyes widened as much as my mouth. “Do you swear?”  
“Yes, sugar. I swear on my fucking life. I’m not worried about you hurting me...I’m only worried about you. I don’t wanna hurt you, Frankie,”  
“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowed. “Why are you scared of hurting me?”  
“Frankie...you said you’re a virgin,” Gerard said flatly, that last word he spoke just echoing in my ears and throughout my racing mind. “It’ll end up hurting a lot if I...well, do you in the ass, since you’ve never...you know, done that kind of thing before. I, unfortunately, have fallen victim to seeing way too many men fuck each other way too many times when I was in the loony bin--on accident my eyes stumbled upon them, of course--but trust me...it looks anything but painless. The last thing I wanna do is end up putting you in a lot of pain, because…,” Gerard stopped, frowning in genuine sorrow as he gazed down at the ground, looking lower than a dog. “...you’re just too precious for me to see you like that, Frankie. I don’t ever wanna hurt you anymore, because I’ve already done that one too many times, and you don’t deserve it,”  
“Gerard, it’s okay,” I sighed, wishing Gerard would cut it out with all the guilt-tripping he puts on himself, something he does far too much. “I know it’ll hurt, but it’s not like you’re intentionally trying to hurt me-”  
“It doesn’t matter!” Gerard interrupted, clearly on edge and shaking from how much frustration and distress must be within his damaged body, waiting to erupt at full-force. “You’re still gonna be feeling the pain regardless of that, and I don’t want that for you. I don’t wanna let a...fucking monster like me hurt you! I only wanna hurt the people that deserve it, like what I did to the Richardsons and those kids from high school that tormented me. You’re not one of those people, Frankie. You don’t deserve any of that. I fucking love you, Frankie. I really do, and I don’t wanna hurt someone I love. I don’t want to hurt you...like what he did to me,”  
I felt my insides churn, knowing exactly who Gerard is talking about. I curse the name of the man that did something so horrible and depraved to someone far too innocent and vulnerable like Gerard. He doesn’t ever wanna see himself stoop way down to the level of someone so cruel, and he especially doesn’t ever wanna relive those dark memories with me, because he knows I can’t bear to see him so distraught being reminded of such awful things. He just loves me too much, just like how I love him to no end. But what Jack did to Gerard wasn’t even close to being out of love. It was rape, out of pure malice and selfishness all only for his own fucked up and perverted benefit. Regardless of all that, him fornicating me would still bring him right back to that terrible day, and I don’t want to hurt Gerard that way, just like he doesn’t want to hurt me. He’s still haunted by what Jack did to him, even after getting his revenge and taking his life so viciously all those years ago. It really was a mistake of me to ask. I should’ve known better-  
“But, if you really, really want me to do what...well, you asked me to do….,” Gerard looked back up at me, the sadness in his eyes he previously had just seconds ago now gone. “I’ll do it, Frankie, just as long as you really want it,”  
“W-what?” I stuttered, feeling the butterflies in my stomach flutter all over inside of me. Is he serious? Is he really willing to do it, despite all he just told me about his fear of hurting me? Am I hearing him right, or am I going fucking crazy? “B-but Gerard...what about you-”  
“Frankie, what did I tell you? Don’t worry about me. I only care about you, and nothing else. Like I said, anything for you,” he smirked, scooting in closer to me as he ran a hand through my bangs, his eyes gazing at me in wonder. “Besides, it’ll feel fucking good for you to be fully free of all that shit your so-called mom and dad put you through...and I feel honored to help you with that. It’ll be like a big flaming ‘fuck you, I am happy to be who I am’ to them, y’know?”  
“Well, that is true,” I laughed, knowing how Gerard is good at getting me to do just that. He seriously couldn’t have said it any better. He is right after all, though it still hurts knowing that my mom and dad will probably never take the time to appreciate what I am instead of what they want me to be. I need to know one thing from Gerard right now, and that is if he also really, really wants to go through with we might do soon. I need to know if he’s willing to do so as much as I am. “Gerard...are you sure you wanna do this? Because we don’t have to if you really don’t feel comfortable with-”  
“That’s what I should be asking you, Frankie. If you do, then I will say this...it will hurt like a son of a bitch,” Gerard leaned in even closer to me, the gaps between our faces becoming thinner with each passing second. “I’ll do my best to make sure it won’t hurt you as bad, but if it ever becomes too much for you, just give me the word and I’ll stop. Understand?”  
I silently nodded in response, officially handing over my V card for good and forever as Gerard leaned in to dominate my lips with his, his body warm and grinding up against mine. As he did, one of his hands started to snake past my chest and tummy down to the crotch of my pants, unfastening my jeans and gently groping at my already wet dick, starting with slow easy strokes as we continued to kiss. I happily returned the favor, pulling Gerard’s pants down past his knees, then grabbed his thick and throbbing cock and began to jerk it, starting with those same slow yet rhythmic strokes, then gradually grew faster as we got hotter and heavier, our kissing seeming to never come to a halt.  
“Mmmm…,” Gerard moaned under his breath, breathing heavily amongst our lips kissing each other's again and again. “That's it, baby. Right there…,”  
“Someone's getting a little too excited a little too fast,” I sang, finding it hilariously adorable how easily Gerard gets so turned on, even though we barely started here.  
“You’re right,” Gerard brought himself back up, separating himself from me. He scooted himself to the end of the bed and reached for one of the many bags he packed. He pulled out what appears to be a bottle of lube, opening the cap and squeezing some of the liquid in his hand before rubbing it around his hardening cock, jerking himself off. As he did, he glanced back up at me, the look on his face telling me that things are about to get very serious. I know what’s about to happen, and I don’t know whether to be excited or fucking scared.  
“Oh my god…,” I breathed out, trying to keep my cool, but failing miserably. My heart is racing and the hairs on my neck are standing up straight. This is it. He’s gonna put it in me, and something tells me it really is gonna hurt like a son of a bitch, just like he said. “Holy fuck, Gee...I-”  
“Frankie,” Gerard cut me off, leaning in closer to me again to whisper into my ear. “Are you sure you still wanna do this, baby?”  
“Y-yes,” I said shakily. “I do, Gee. I...I really fucking do,”  
“I hope you’re right about that,” Gerard kissed me on the cheek, the fingers on his free hand running through my damp and sweaty hair. “Like I said before, if it ever becomes too much for you, please tell me to stop. I don’t wanna hurt you...I wanna please you, sugar. I need for you to just sit back and relax as much as you can. You need to be very calm and relaxed. That’s the only way it’ll make it not hurt so bad, alright?”  
I obeyed Gerard, lying down on the bed backside-up, my face planted into the pillow as I shut my eyes and worked with all my might to clear my racing mind, breathing in and out slowly as Gerard pulled my pants and underwear completely off of me, exposing my whole naked self to him. Gerard towered his also bare-assed body over mine, his teeth leaving bites on my neck as he continued to grind his sweaty self up against me while beating his meat, his groin barely inches away from my bum.  
“How are you feeling, baby? You comfy?” he whispered to me as I felt two of his lubricated fingers fondle with my opening. I nodded in response, continuing to do just as he says. He is the master since he is the one on top, after all. I am his servant, and I must do as I’m told to please him as he does the same for me.  
“Oh...yes…,” I moaned, Gerard’s fingers still massaging me. It feels so fucking good. I definitely am at ease right now, thanks to him. I gasped, feeling another one of his fingers make it’s way into me, stretching me bigger and wider. It hurts, but just a bit. It hurts in a good way, just like how it’s supposed to be. “Holy fuck...oh my god, oh-”  
“Frankie,” Gerard said, his lips leaving kisses on my neck. “Are you ready?”  
“Yes,” I stood up on all fours, knowing it’s soon to be a sealed deal. “I am,”  
“Are you sure?” he asked for the millionth time. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”  
“Yes, Gerard. I am fucking sure!”  
“Alright, sugar...if you say so,” Gerard kissed me on the cheek again, his lips lingering over to my neck. “But please, for the love of fuck, remember what I told you,”  
“I will, Gee. I swear I will,” I moaned under my breath, closing my eyes as I felt Gerard’s teeth nibble and tug at the skin of my neck, his waist continuing to slowly grind up against my bottom, his shaft beginning to make an entry into my opening. With each firm thrust Gerard made, I breathed in and out to keep myself calm and content, just like he told me to. That’s all I need to do right now as Gerard starts to fornicate me; I need to relax and meditate, and I need to badly. I need to breathe…  
In...and out...in...and out...in...and out...in-  
“Ahhh!” I gasped, feeling a rush of pain within me. I can feel Gerard inside of me now, still thrusting in and out, the pace of the pushes and pulls slowly getting faster.. It really does hurt, but I’m not gonna sit here and whine about it. It may hurt, but it also feels so fucking good. Gerard above me is grunting and moaning too, one of his hands wrapped around and jerking my rock-hard and moist cock, his other hand massaging my shoulder for comfort; he must know how much it really hurts like a bitch, and the best he can do is help me through it. I don’t want him to stop. I don’t wanna wuss out. I want to keep going, even though it really does hurt having something shoved up your keister, obviously. After all, no one ever said your first time getting fucked never hurts. “Oh, god...oh my fucking god, Gerard….oh...my...god!”  
“Do you want me to stop, sugar?” Gerard asked, his exhausted voice shaky under his many moans and groans. “Just give me the word, and I’ll-”  
“No!” I nearly screamed, both from a mixture of my determination for him to keep going, and from how much I’m hurting so much. I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes tighter as Gerard shoved himself further into me, continuing to hit my prostate again and again. I feel so close to exploding, both out of pure pleasure and painful agony. “Fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck!”  
“Oh, sugar pop,” Gerard whispered into my ear, his hand on my shoulder clawing into my skin. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Frankie. You’re just...so fucking gorgeous, and amazing, and...ohhhh…ahhh!” he moaned, sending chills down my spine. That is something I never get sick of hearing. I could listen to Gerard moaning nonstop and never get enough of it, especially now.  
“Oh, Gee...honey, please don’t stop...don’t stop, Gerard...don’t--ahhhh!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, feeling my whole body tense up as it started to climax. It still hurts, but it’s so much worse than before, but I’m also so close to cumming. Gerard is close too. I can feel it in him. I can tell that he’s gonna cum soon too, his cock so deep inside ejaculating all over me. Those are the two things I’m waiting for; it’s our grand finale, and we are both only inches away from it.  
“Frankie...it’s coming, baby,” Gerard whimpered. “I’m gonna cum, Frankie...oh, Frankie...oh, Frankie…oh...Fraaaaankiiiieeee!”  
And that’s exactly what he did, the warm cum bursting from him into me. He got a few more thrusts in before I did the same, ejaculating right into his hand. I sighed in relief, feeling the sweet release wash over me. I collapsed on to the bed, my face nearly buried in the pillow. I must say, I definitely am not disappointed. In fact, I am beyond fucking satisfied. We did it, and it was honestly one of the best things I’ve ever felt; it felt so good that it was almost unworldly. I am no longer a little virgin boy, and it felt so amazing beyond words to finally lose it, being left with Gerard’s venom inside of me.  
“Oh, baby…,” Gerard’s body fell right on top of mine, the weight of his pinning me down beyond any means of escape. That’s alright, though. He can stay on top of me all he wants. I really don’t fucking mind. “Did you have fun?”  
“Gee...I had more than just that,” I laughed, still trying to catch my breath from all that we just did. In fact I was laughing so hard that I’m on the brink of tears. Oh yeah, it was that good. “I had a fucking blast. That was...fucking amazing! Thank you, Gerard...thank you...thank you so fucking much!”  
“That’s good. I’m glad you liked it. You’re welcome, sugar,” Gerard cradled my body into his arms once again, taking the both of us under the covers, his cum still leaking all over me and staining the sheets. The housekeeper is really gonna love what he or she sees what’s gotta be cleaned up later when we’re away. I laid my head on Gerard’s shoulder, letting him pet it like a small kitten that he just can’t keep his hands off of. He brought my face up to his, his eyes flashing me a look of concern. “I didn’t...hurt you too much, did I, baby?”  
“No,” I replied, clearly lying. It did undoubtedly hurt. It hurt so fucking bad that I felt like crying, but Gerard doesn’t need to know that. It still felt really good way more than it hurt. “What about you, Gerard? Did you have fun?”  
“You bet your sweet and tight ass I did,” he winked, bringing me even closer to him in a tight hug as he showered my face with one kiss after another. Making myself comfortable in Gerard’s embrace, I shut my eyes, clearly drained from what we just did. It wore the living hell outta me, leaving me a sweaty and cum-stained mess, but it was so worth it. I have longed for this, and it’s finally in my hands, now that I am no longer a puppet of my mom and dad. Gerard cut the strings off from them, letting me free. He stroked my cheek, his fingers lightly brushing against my hot and dampened skin. “You look so tired, sugar pop. You need some rest. Plenty of it, actually. We’ve got a big day ahead of us!”  
Oh, no...oh, fuck...how could I forget?  
I just about opened up my eyes wide, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. I can feel my stomach doing a somersault inside of me, making me wanna puke my guts out. Tomorrow, we will be heading off to pursue the killing of Irvine Bagninski, one of the two men that Gerard needs to seek his long-awaited revenge on for the murder of his beloved parents. You’re right, Gerard. I do need rest, especially after what we did just moments ago, but how in the hell am I supposed to get any of that, knowing what tomorrow is yet to bring? With all of that in mind, I don’t think I ever wanna wake up to be greeted by that dreaded tomorrow only hours away from the both of us.


	22. This Is How I Disappear

I wasn’t able to sleep so well last night. In fact, saying that would be an understatement; I slept horribly. It wasn’t because of the brick-like and uncomfortable mattress of the bed, or the fact that we just fucked in it, losing my V card for good in the process; it’s because of something else...well, three things, actually. The first was that Gerard, who was fast asleep right next to me, kept tossing and turning nonstop, nearly kicking me outta the bed and stealing all the covers from me on multiple occasions. He was also constantly talking in his sleep, which didn’t make it any better. Actually, no...he wasn’t just doing that. He wasn’t just talking to the thin air like people normally tend to do when asleep; it was like he was legitimately talking to someone, like holding an actual conversation. However, it wasn’t just any casual talk. It was like he was arguing with someone in his sleep, constantly objecting to what he was being told and nearly screaming at him or her, whoever it was. But, if he wasn’t bickering with this person in his dream, he was laughing like a goddamn lunatic. I don’t know what it was he was cackling at of course, but whatever it was, it must’ve been fucking hilarious to him. Throughout the whole night it was back and forth between Gerard yelling and laughing in his sleep, on top of kicking and shoving me time after time. Based on the contents of said conversation, I can sadly assume he was talking with one of the voices in his head. It has to be. If not, then I’ll be damned. I can’t really complain too much, though. At least he never tried hitting himself or anything along those lines; if that happened, then I definitely would've had to jump in to wake him up.  
The second thing that prevented me from sleep was the fact that every time I did manage to doze off, my mind was constantly greeted with a familiar vision that just makes me on the verge of a mental breakdown--a manic Gerard with a nosebleed and a severed head in his hand, that head belonging to me, it’s dead hazel eyes open wide and beaming at me, making me jolt myself awake, nearly screaming my head off. That’s all I saw every time I attempted to put my mind to rest, and because of that, I was too terrified to even close my eyes, fearing that I would accidentally fall asleep and go through that horrible experience of seeing that vision again in my dreams. What’s even worse is that I am soon to see that awful, murderous side of Gerard later tonight, that being the third thing that prevented me from being able to sleep. We are actually gonna head out to kill Irvine tonight, and while I do think he does deserve nothing but the worst for what he’s done to Gerard and his family all those years ago, there’s no doubt in my mind what’s yet happen to him at the hands of his soon-to-be killer is gonna be nothing short of ugly and grotesque. I just want it all to end as fast as possible and be done with it, since Gerard’s burning desire to kill is what makes Irvine’s death unpreventable, but something tells me that that will only be the beginning of the downward spiral into darkness that awaits for us. I’ve already got a terrible feeling that the way Gerard was all throughout the night, laughing and screaming at whatever was in his head, was a prelude to his descent into madness, and that alone makes me makes me beyond fucking scared and even more restless.  
That whole night was forever.  
_ _ _  
“Frankie...it’s time to wake up,” Gerard sang to me, nudging my shoulder. Already annoyed and far from well-rested, I turned around in bed and curled up in a tight ball, wishing he would just go away and let me sleep already. I know exactly what’s gonna happen today, and I’ve been dreading it since day one. Knowing what’s ahead of us tonight makes me wanna sleep forever...and never wake up.  
“Baby, you gotta get up,” Gerard nudged me again, harder this time. “C’mon, sugar pop. Today’s a big day,”  
For fuck’s sake, Gerard….You know what? Fuck it. I’ll get up. Me staying in bed is just gonna delay the inevitable anyway. Sooner or later I gotta get up, unfortunately. I know you won’t leave me alone until I do what you say. There’s no use just laying here whining about it. You win again, Gee. Happy now?  
Yet again giving in to Gerard’s stubbornness that I’m all too familiar with, I sat up in bed and slowly opened up my eyes to find Gerard with--of course--two cups of freshly brewed coffee in his hands, one for me and one for him. I took a quick glance behind him to also find two plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit on the little table next to the television we’ve never turned on once during our stay here; he must’ve brought the food from the free breakfast bar downstairs in the main lobby. It’s kinda strange to think that the man that gave me free breakfast just so happens to also be the same psychopathic killer I keep seeing in my dreams with my decapitated head clutched tightly in his hands, his eyes full of malevolence.  
“Thanks,” I mumbled out sleepily, taking one of the cups of coffee from Gerard and sipping it, hoping to god this stuff is a strong enough brew to keep me from passing out cold on the floor from tiredness.  
“You gotta eat up too, baby,” Gerard said, motioning to the breakfast behind us and sitting down to start eating his. “You need to have enough food in you. Come on, sit down,”  
I reluctantly did so, despite not having the appetite at all to eat anything, knowing the madness between the two of us that’s yet to take place. Nothing seems so appealing or have taste or smell to it right now; even the coffee lacks as much of a hint of either of those things. Taking a bite out of my eggs, I tasted nothing but disappointing blandness. I know there isn’t much to expect when it comes to free motel food, but I can at least still taste food no matter how good or bad it is. Not here, though. It’s like my senses are starting to shut off, the future blood that is to be shed numbing me and everything I can ever feel.  
“How’d you sleep, sugar pop?” Gerard asked, scarfing down his food so fast like it’s his last meal. “You slept good, right?”  
“Well,” I sighed, knowing damn well that I wasn’t even close to accomplishing that, no thanks to the man that talks, laughs, kicks, and screams in his sleep nonstop. “Not really, to be honest...”  
Gerard didn’t say anything back to me. He didn’t even look at me. It’s like he didn’t even acknowledge the fact I was talking to him, answering his question. He just kept his vacant eyes focused down at what’s left of his food, his mind once again lost in it’s own little warped world, far out of orbit from the other ones within the universe that is life itself. The corners of his mouth slowly began to grow, forming into it into a wide smile from ear to ear as his eyes started to widen, nearly bulging right outta their sockets, like you’d see a cartoon character do. Come to think of it, Gerard is kinda like one. He has those quirks and exaggerated tendencies similar to the average one. However, he isn’t just like any cartoon character; he’s a maniacal and deranged one that’s infamous for scaring the ever loving shit outta people, kid and grown-up alike; he’s the kind that people see in their nightmares all the time. I’m one of those people that’s scared of him, and I definitely always see his face in my dreams, especially my night terrors.  
“Oh...oh my, F-frankie,” he cackled shakily, his whole unstable self slowly coming to life again, his wide eyes staring right back at me from across the table. “Today’s gonna be so much fun! I can already feel it, baby! Aren’t you excited? It’s gonna be a night to remember, Frankie!”  
Oh no. It’s happening again. He’s losing himself, turning into that exact same monster I fear and hate so much. It’s that same monster I saw in my dreams last night, it’s beastly eyes consumed by insanity glaring right at me, his hand clutching onto my bloodied and lifeless head cut clean off my neck. I gulped and felt my stomach churn, knowing I’m neck-deep in shit now. The Gerard I know and love has disappeared, leaving me alone with this fiend. What’s even worse is that this is the very same man I’ve given up my purity to. I slept with this guy. I got fucked by him. I have been sleeping not only with another human being, but a monster too.  
”That motherfucker doesn't know what kind of surprise he’s in for to tonight. He doesn't know that I'm about to get fucking even with him, after all these years!” Gerard stood straight up from his chair like lightning, nearly knocking it over to the floor. “I really fucking hope he remembers me, Frankie. He better fucking remember who I am as well as what he and his fucking friend did to me all those years ago. I'll make him fucking remember everything in his final moments before I finally rid him from this goddamn planet! It’s gonna be so glorious to finally spill his fucking guts and make him suffer!”  
As if Gerard couldn't let himself grow anymore hysterical, he suddenly began to pace back and forth around the room, going all over sporadically in circles of mania, as I just continued to sit there feeling myself die inside more and more. I don’t know what to do. I'm fucking scared outta my mind. I'm almost too scared to even move or speak, for fuck's sake. I was right. Gerard really is gone; at least, the Gerard I love and adore is gone, along with what little sanity is left within him. I know in the back in my mind that it's only gonna go further downhill from here, much to my utter dismay.  
“You know what, Frankie? I know exactly how we’re gonna go through with all this tonight. I've got everything all planned out, baby!” Gerard sang in a warped sing-songy voice that just sends so many chills down my spine. He's still rapidly pacing back and forth in circles, never coming to a halt to catch his breath. “At dark, we will get to his house, very late at night when everyone's asleep to quell any suspicions. We gotta be sure he’s sleeping, or else we’ll have to move on to plan B, which I've got all figured out too, but our best bet is to bind him while he's knocked out. After doing all that, we’ll get him to the warehouse I used to live at, where I butchered Jack like the fucking pig he was! It's when we get Irvine’s sorry ass to the warehouse where the real fun begins, because that's when I finally my oh-so-sweet revenge! Three cheers for sweet fucking revenge!”  
Gerard suddenly stopped, collapsing to the floor on his knees, his tense body all shriveled up and rocking back and forth, his eyes still wide and manic like the smile stretched across his face. Like the madman he is, he erupted into uncontrollable laughter, his hands clamped to his shaking head. I'm almost convinced he forgot that I'm sitting right here near him, because I am beyond stunned and absolutely speechless from what’s unfolding in front of me. As I witnessed my one and only psychotic love succumb to his own bloodlust and insanity, I felt my soul crumble to pieces, knowing that I’m stuck with this guy, far away from home. There is definitely no point of return from here. I have put myself into a fucking trap, and there’s no way out for me. I’m fucking doomed!  
Out of nowhere, Gerard froze, his laughs of hysteria coming to a screeching halt, his whole body still as a statue. It’s like he finally snapped back into reality, gaining control of his corrupted mind. It’s like he finally realized how out of control he’s been acting. At least, that’s what I hope the case is. There’s no way in hell he can’t see just how appalled I am. He needs to know damn well that he is scaring the living shit outta me right now, and it needs to stop. It was when he smiled that smug yet unnerving grin of his that I quickly learned that I was sorely mistaken.  
“Oh...sorry about that,” he said, getting back up from the floor. “Got a little too excited, y’know? I’m gonna go take a quick bath before we head out. You gonna shower before we leave?”  
“N-no,” I shook my head, stunned that I can even speak despite what I just let my eyes see moments ago.  
“Alright then. You just go and get packed up. We’ll check out and leave soon after I bathe. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, after all…,” Gerard flashed me that chilling grin one last time before he excused himself to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and leaving me alone, wanting to just run from the motel room and scream my lungs out from how much I am extremely frustrated and terrified like never before. That’s exactly what I feel the need to do so badly right now. I just wanna scream, punch a hole through the goddamn wall, then crawl into a dark corner and cry. I just can’t take it anymore. I am three-hundred percent fucking done. I am just so close to losing all my sanity within me, just like Gerard did ages ago. What kind of guy lets themselves date a psychotic, revenge-obsessed killer and escaped mental patient with a checkered past? No one but a naive and lovestruck idiot, such as myself. Why is love so disastrous, especially ours?  
Giving in to the rage and despair that’s been building up within me, I quietly walked out of the room so that Gerard wouldn’t hear my exit, then proceeded to storm down the hall and stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator. I then quickly walked out the front door and let my shaking body down on a nearby bench, burying my face into my hands and screaming. I screamed like a motherfucker for what seemed like an eternity rather than just minutes. I screamed so hard that I’m stunned I didn't manage to make my throat bleed from how sore it feels now. But I don’t care. I had to do that. I just had to let it all out, and it felt so bitterly relieving doing so. I don’t even care if anyone saw me nearly screaming my whole respiratory system out of my mouth. If they were in my shoes right now, I’m sure they’d go mad too.  
When I released my face from my hands, I felt a warm moisture on them, as well as on my eyes. I was crying, and never took a minute to notice it. Am I really that much of a wreck right now, just a screaming and crying mess with a boyfriend that’s just as much of a basket case? Just saying that about him is an understatement though; I don’t even know what to say about him anymore. What can I say about him that I haven’t already said? I’m fucking stuck with him, for fuck’s sake! I just can’t leave him and run for my life. Where would I go? Where would I hide from him? There’s no doubt in my mind he would find me, knowing how he’s managed to do the same for all the people he’s killed. Then I’d really be far past fucked. He’d want me fucking dead, like what our relationship is close to being. This really was a bad idea for me to tag along with Gerard on his kill trip, and I knew that from the start, as well as Mikey, even though to him this whole thing is nothing more than a road trip to visit with my bigoted and distant parents. As much as I hate to admit it, he was right. It really was a bad idea; a horrible one, actually. He knew damn well that me going out to an unknown place far from home with his mentally disturbed brother was nothing short of a recipe for disaster. I’m stunned that he didn’t get himself to physically stop me from leaving the house with Gerard in that taxi. Now a part of me wishes that he did.  
Speak of the devil, I felt my phone in my pocket vibrate and saw Mikey’s name on the caller ID when I pulled it out. Seriously, he couldn’t have called at a more convenient time. How fan-fucking-tastic is that? How the hell am I even gonna explain myself, knowing that he will most definitely ask about Gerard’s well-being, as well as mine too? I know I shouldn’t tell him the naked truth that he’s definitely not okay, because knowing how Mikey is, that’ll only make matters worse. On the other hand though, I can’t just lie and say that everything’s fine, because they most certainly are not. I can’t just sit here and decipher my choices of what to say though. I’ve got a phonecall to answer, and ignoring it will only be the first of thousands more to come, just imagining how fucking scared and worried outta his mind Mikey must be. Not that I blame him, though.  
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone.  
“Hey, Frank. It’s me, Mikey,” he replied, something in his voice somewhat a bit...off, I should say. There’s something wrong with Mikey. I already know he’s calling me, so why did he feel the need to state the obvious? Who did I think was calling me, the Queen of England? But all jokes aside, something definitely doesn’t sound right here. I can almost hear the anxiety in his voice.  
“Yeah, I know it’s you. What’s up?”  
“F-frank,” he said my name again, his nervous voice seeming to falter and stutter over it. “Okay, I know I told you I’d be calling you to check up on you and Gerard, and...well, that’s what I just did, but...I really need to talk to you right now,”  
“Why, something wrong?” I asked dumbly, knowing in the back of my mind that something certainly is, so much that I’m not the only one that very likely feels that way, much to my fear.  
“Frank, listen to me. I am very worried for the both of you. I dunno if I’m going crazy or what, but...something tells me that something really, really bad is about to happen, but I don’t know what it is exactly. It’s like ever since you two left, the thought’s been eating at me for so long, thinking in the back of my mind that something will indeed happen, and I just thought I’d call and tell you that and make sure you two are okay. Please, Frank. Please tell me you two are alright,”  
Oh, no. He is definitely right. He’s not fucking crazy. Something will happen tonight, and it will be really awful. He doesn’t know what exactly is gonna happen, but he does definitely know it’s far from good. Again, what the hell can I tell him? I can’t tell the whole truth, but I can’t be telling him stories either. I’m not okay, and Gerard certainly isn’t either. He’s losing his goddamn mind, and unfortunately, it just may be for good and forever, never again to return to his saner self that I’ve come to know and love.  
No. I have to lie. Doing that is better than telling him everything. I can’t afford to narc on Gerard. I can’t afford to do anything to set him off and risk bringing a disaster upon myself. I can’t afford to do the same to Mikey either, telling him the truth and triggering Mikey to do god knows what. Would he come looking for us? Would he call the local psych ward to look for Gerard to lock him back up? Or, more realistically, would he just get more and more nosier, therefore blowing our cover for what our real purpose of this whole road trip is supposed to be for, to kill someone rather than reunite with my crazy family? I can’t afford to let any of that happen. I have to follow Gerard’s orders, keep him happy, and lay low off the radar for him. I cannot tell him anything, or else god knows what that’ll end up costing me if I do just that. I’ve gotta bullshit my whole way through this. It’s for the best.  
“We’re alright, Mikes,” I started. “Don’t worry. Gerard’s been fine the whole trip. It’s all good. We’re gonna stop by my mom and dad’s house later for lunch. Saw them last night, too,”  
I heard nothing but silence on the line, feeling myself gag at the mere mention of my parents that I’ve become so disgusted with, no thanks to them. I felt myself gag even more at how unnerving Mikey’s silence feels. He’s not buying into what I just told him. He knows something’s up, but I can only hope he doesn’t know exactly what it is. He may be irritating, nosy, and a know-it-all, but he’s not dumb.  
“Frank,” he said flatly, breaking the silence between us. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me. I feel like you’re hiding something from me that you don’t want me to know,”  
Goddamnit. Fucking called it. I don’t know what to say now. Now what do I do? Hang up? No, that’ll just confirm his suspicions about-  
“As much as I hate to tell you all that, I do genuinely think there’s something very wrong, but I can’t know what it is since you won’t tell me anything,” he continued, his unconvincing tone of voice lacking even a hint of remorse. “I know I’m sounding like a dick here, but that’s because I’m very worried. I’m not just worried about Gerard. I’m also very worried for you, Frank. I’m afraid that my brother’s gonna do something very bad, and god forbid it’s something bad to you. I know you love and care for him a lot, but...it should be common knowledge that he’s a very unpredictable and unstable person, and I’m scared that he’s gonna get someone hurt if it’s not himself. He may have gotten better ever since you came into his life, but that isn’t saying much. He’s still not all that well in the head, and you know it. My brother is fucking dangerous. That’s why I was opposed to you two leaving the house together for a trip, let alone in a different state. You’re both far away from home, and you’re both not safe, especially you, Frank,”  
I may as well have already been defeated. Mikey has just confirmed almost every single thing I’ve been in fear of ever since me and Gerard left the house. Something most definitely is gonna happen, and there’s no good that’ll come out of it, even though that’s not how Gerard sees it, of course. I am also not safe; in fact, I’m far from it, and I’ll still be in danger if I dare to ever find a way out. If anything, doing that will only lead me into deeper shit. Gerard will find me if I bail out on him, and he will fucking kill me just like he did to Jack, just like the rest of the Richardsons, just like those bullies from high school, and soon, just like Irvine. Mikey’s definitely right. I am in trouble. I am in harm’s way, and if I dare cry out for help or try to run away, it’ll only end up being the death of me.  
“Frank,,” Mikey said again, his sudden voice making me jump a little from how withdrawn my mind’s become from all the chaos and anxiety erupting within it. “Are you sure there’s nothing you wanna tell me? If there is, please say it now,”  
“N-no,” I forced out, feeling that two-lettered word echo through the phone and my mind. “No, there isn’t. I’m fine, Mikey,”  
“Frank…,” he sighed, clearly annoyed with my stubbornness and reluctance of telling the truth. Now he’s the one that sounds defeated. “I really don't know what to say. I'm worried sick for you two, you especially. I don't think something’s right at all. In fact, I know it. You really baffle me, Frank. You really do. If you don’t wanna tell me anything, then so be it. I wanna help you, Frank. I wanna make sure you're okay, but if you don't want that, then fine. What can I do? Just know that if anything does happen, you have been warned. You knew all along what you were getting yourself into with Gerard. He's like a stray dog that bites. The first time he bites you when you try to pet him, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know he was gonna hurt you. But then when you try to bite him and he bites you again like the first time...you fucking knew. Goodbye, Frank,”  
The line clicked, leaving me completely empty with silence and a guilty discontent. What can I say? He’s got a point. I am a fool; a fool that’s a sucker for love. I may as well be a fool that has a death wish, too. I am also a fool that wants to fix someone. But how can that fool fix this person if he may very likely be beyond repair? How can he fix him if trying to do so may end up costing his whole life? If Gerard is the dog, then I am the hand that foolishly feeds, letting himself get bit again and again, risking his hand getting cut clean off and becoming the dog's next meal.  
“Baaaabyyyy!” A shrill voice sang from up above, nearly sending me into cardiac arrest. I looked up to find Gerard’s towel-enraveled head peeking out from the window, his big hazel eyes glancing down at me. “What are you doing down there? Are you all packed up, sugar? We gotta check out and leave soon!”  
“I'm coming,” I sighed as I got up and walked back inside, knowing that me just sitting here and sulking will only delay what will inevitably happen when we leave this godforsaken motel. It’s like I’m gonna be leaving it with a complete stranger that’s also a madman rather than Gerard...well, at least rather the saner and more rational part of him that doesn’t have so much of a hopeless addiction with revenge. With that being said, it’s definitely gonna be a bumpy ride, and also a fucking scary one.  
_ _ _  
After leaving the motel and driving for what seemed like an eternity rather than just a few or so hours, we checked into another one, this one being a little nicer-looking Holiday Inn just outside of Trenton. We ended up resting for a bit before we headed out to get some food in our stomachs. We soon settled on a local cheap-looking diner that thankfully wasn’t too crowded when we pulled in, seeing how the parking lot is only full with a few or so cars. I can safely say that Gerard was at least calm and drove less crazily the whole ride, but I know getting my hopes up is nothing short of futile when it comes to him.  
“I’m starving. How about you, sugar?” Gerard turned to me as we began to walk inside the barely occupied greasy spoon.  
“I guess so,” I shrugged, opening up the front door for the both of us as we walked through. I am a bit hungry, to be honest. Eggs and bacon don’t sit too long with me in my stomach anyway, knowing that I can now hear it growling and begging me to feed it already. We made our way up to the front desk, or whatever it is that waiters sit at to...well, wait for their next customers to serve, I guess. I don’t know. I never worked in the restaurant field, so I don’t know this stuff too well. A young-looking woman, probably around college age with long dark hair and an alarmingly low-cut top revealing her cleavage, smiled at us as she looked up from whatever paperwork she was previously working on.  
“Hi there, table for two?” she asked, revealing her pearly white teeth, especially right at me. That’s what her eyes stayed focused on, not even bothering to take a glance at the strange case of a person next to him. I can’t really blame her, though. I’m pretty sure anyone would get pretty odd vibes seeing someone like Gerard for the first time, knowing how much of a...um, “different” kind of guy he is. I just kinda wish she’d...maybe pull up her top a little? She is a pretty girl, but can she at least be a little more modest and not let her tits hang out so much? There’s just something about that that doesn’t sit well with me, and certainly not in a good way. I don’t like boobs, either. How can I if I’m gay?  
“Yes, please,” Gerard replied, saving me from the awkward silence that had grown between me and the scantily-clad waitress.  
“Alright, then. Right this way,” she said, grabbing two menus and leading us to a booth. As we both sat down, I foolishly let my eyes glance back up at her, whose eyes were still right on me, as well as that friendly and pearly-toothed grin of her’s. It’s so friendly-looking that it goes beyond being just a happy and welcoming employee. No girl has ever looked at me like this, let alone one on the job as a waitress. She is so checking me out, her flirtatious eyes scanning me up and down in admiration. “My name’s Renee, and I’ll be your server, alright? Can I start you boys off with something to drink?”  
“I’ll have water,” I replied quickly, already unnerved by the fact that this lady just won’t stop staring at me like the way she is. I was so right. She’s definitely hitting on me, even though it should be known to her that this fruity pebble right here is already taken by the man sitting right across with me, who looks anything but pleased with what’s taking place in front of him. Being the naturally passive and awkward son of a gun I am, I just smiled back a bit, keeping my shy and uninterested eyes down at the table, hoping to god Renee will soon take a hint that I am indeed not interested in her offer. I came here with Gerard to eat, not get hit on by some provocatively-dressed waitress.  
“Alright, hun. And you?” Renee wrote down my beverage order as her eyes turned over to Gerard, who just glared at her with distaste, seeing her trying to flirt with his sugar pop that’s nothing but all his, and no one else’s.  
“Coffee. Black, please,” he said flatly, giving her a “stay the fuck away from my boy or you’ll be sorry” kind of look, to which she immediately obeyed, scribbling down his order and quickly scurrying away without saying a word, a flash of utter terror and devastation behind her now uneasy green eyes. Even though I’m relieved she’s no longer making me feel uncomfortable with her seductiveness, I kinda feel bad for her now. It’s like Gerard just outright scared her off like a little rabbit being chased by a rabid fox. It’s not like she was asking me to let her suck my cock out in the parking lot or anything like that.  
Jesus Christ, Gerard. You didn’t have to scare her off like that. You coulda just politely told her to lay off the flirty looks and so on. What if she’s too scared to go near us now? Then we’ll have no food to eat, you dummy! You didn’t have to be such a douche-  
“Don’t look at her, baby. Besides, you already know who’s yours,” Gerard smirked, not even an ounce of remorse in his eyes for what he just did to poor Renee. I didn’t say anything, even though I feel the want to, telling him that scaring her off was going a little overboard. However, it’s best to just play it safe. I can’t risk upsetting Gerard for simply disagreeing with him, because I’ve already learned that the hard way in the past. None of that chaos needs happen here. Not now.  
“Here you go,” Renee said, momentarily returning to the table with our drinks while we skimmed through the lunch menus.  
Holy shit, that was fast!   
As she reached for the coffee pot to pour Gerard’s daily java, I couldn’t help but notice a smile still on her face, her eyes still on me. It’s not one that’s revealing her ridiculously white teeth, but still a pleasant-looking one that doesn’t lack any genuineness. I guess I was wrong about Gerard scaring her off, but what do I know? She’s gotta do her job whether or not she’s happy with the people she’s serving, which is obviously a drag. I know, because I’ve experienced that kind of thing firsthand with my shitty-ass job working at the department store. I really hope I am right about Gerard not freaking her out, though. However, it wouldn’t surprise me if that wasn’t the case. He is a pretty scary guy, knowing his backstory and how messed up in the head he truly is. What’s just as scary and shocking is that he has a boyfriend, who just so happens to me be.  
“Thank you,” Gerard said in a monotone voice, taking a long sip from his hot coffee as his stern eyes watched the waitress like a hawk. I think that’s when she stopped smiling, pretending like I’m not even here near her at the table.  
“Are you guys ready to order?” She asked, bringing out her notepad and pen. I know I’m ready to. I wanna eat already, not be some eye candy for a complete stranger.  
“I’ll have the chef’s salad with ranch dressing. What about you, Gee?” I smiled at Gerard, hoping to brighten the mood a bit, considering the rather awkward situation we’ve found ourselves in.  
“I’ll just have what you’re having, baby,” he smirked, handing his menu back to Renee. I know Gerard meant to call me baby on purpose. Hopefully that works so that she will stop eyeing me like a high school girl fantasizing over her crush. I really don’t have an issue with her thinking I’m cute or anything, but...she needs to stop. It’s for all of our own good, especially her’s. Renee took our menus and walked off, leaving the two of us alone once again. We stayed silent, passing the time with our awkward silence and stares at each other as we waited for our food to arrive. It shouldn’t take too long; it’s just a couple of salads anyway, plus the place itself is not even halfway full. There’s only maybe two or three other occupied tables around us.  
Gerard gazed down at his hands folded on top of the table, fidgeting with his fingers as he continued to stay quiet, looking somewhat peaceful. That didn’t last long, though. I watched as his facial expression slowly changed from a calm one to a look of discontent, his eyebrows furrowing in bewilderment and worry as he shot his head back up, his eyes scanning his surroundings, especially the people sitting the other few tables. He definitely looks scared shitless...but why? The only thing that’s even remotely scary about low-grade diners are the weirdos you manage to run into after dark in places like this, and it’s far from being that time of night right now.  
“What’s wrong, Gee?” I asked, passively playing with the straw of my ice water as I looked at him with utter concern.  
“F-frankie…,” he stuttered, his voice shaky as ever, his paranoid hazel eyes frantic and unable to stay still, just like his quivering lips. “I...I don’t have a good feeling about this place…,”  
“Why not, because of our waitress?”  
“No...it’s not just that…,” Gerard swung his head back and forth between me and the diner’s other occupants, who all just stayed focused on their food, but only occasionally took quick glances at the paranoid man sitting across from me in our booth. “I...I think something’s not right about this place,”  
“How so?” I asked, my fear for Gerard within me growing as each second passed by.  
“I think we’re being watched, Frankie. I’m being watched!” Gerard whispered, his voice growing more frantic as his eyes grew wider. “You know they’re looking for me, Frankie! They wanna take me away from you and-”  
“Here you boys go,” Renee said suddenly in a sing-songy voice, returning to our table once again with our salads and placing them in front of us. It’s like Gerard completely froze and was put on pause as she came to us, his body staying still as a statue with his fear-stricken eyes still wide and glued to me. “Can I get you guys anything else? Does everything look alright?”  
“This is fine. Thank you,” I replied, just wishing she’d leave already so I can get to the bottom of what’s eating at Gerard.  
“Alrighty then. Don’t hesitate to call me if you change your mind,” she sang, turning back to face me one last time with that smirk on her face and winked at me as she strutted right off. Looks like she never took Gerard’s hint, unfortunately. Either that or she did, but decided to keep doing exactly what she shouldn’t be doing in front of my boyfriend. What a fool. I really hope Gerard didn’t just see what she did there. What’s she gonna do next, give me her number in front of him? As I began to pour some ranch dressing onto my salad, I looked up at Gerard to see that he hasn’t even picked up his fork yet to eat. Knowing how much he kept going on about how hungry he was earlier, he normally would’ve started scarfing down his food the minute the plate touched the table. Not here, though. Instead, he’s picking at it with his fingers, like he’s inspecting it’s contents as he eyed it skeptically.  
“What’s wrong, Gee?” I asked, taking a bite of my food. “Aren’t you gonna eat your-”  
“Frankie, no!” he hissed, his eyes wide and horrified. “Don’t eat it! It could be poisoned!”  
“What?” I nearly spat out my food from what ridiculous statement just came out of Gerard’s mouth. There’s nothing about this salad that tastes funny to me. In fact, it’s actually pretty good, despite it coming from a low-grade cheap diner. “What are you talking about? It tastes fine!”  
“Are you sure you’re right about that? Are you sure you’re not being poisoned? What about me? They’re looking for me, after all! They might’ve poisoned my coffee too! I can smell the poison from here!”  
“Gerard, what the hell are you talking about?” I dropped my fork, already too frustrated to even enjoy my lunch, no thanks to Gerard’s ridiculous delusions. “What do you mean you’re being poisoned? No one’s after you!”  
“Don’t you get it, Frankie?” Gerard raised his voice, his whispering voice growing sharp with exasperation. “The authorities are out to get me, and you know it! Renee might be working for them, and she must’ve poisoned my food to get back at me!”  
“What? What for? Why would she-”  
“Because she has the hots for you, Frankie! She’s jealous of me for taking you from her, and since it’s very likely she works for the authorities, this is her way of getting back at me! I could’ve sworn I saw a microchip in her wrist too, as well as the other people here! There are spies here, so there’s no doubt in my head that they all work for them, and they’re all after me! We’ve gotta get out of here Frankie, before they catch us and bring out the needles!”  
What? What the fuck does Gerard even mean? What’s all this nonsense about microchips, spies, and needles anyway? Actually, I do know...it’s the voices. The voices in his head are talking to him again, and sadly, there’s nothing I can do about it; not without starting a scene, that is. Maybe we should leave before things go downhill any more. I can already feel everyone’s eyes on us, wondering what the hell is going on with us two. Leaving his salad untouched, Gerard dashed out the front door to the car, starting up the engine and waiting for me to follow his lead, which is probably what I should just do. I’m not even all that hungry anymore; his paranoia has tarnished my appetite. Reluctantly calling over Renee back to our table, I asked her to just bring me the bill already and to not even bother bringing me a takeout box. She grinned that same smile she’s flashed at me thousands of times before, cleaning up the table without uttering a word. She then went away with our unfinished food and returned with a bill, which I quickly paid before grabbing my stuff and rushing out the front door. Before I could exit out the front door, I felt a hand touch my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. I turned around to find Renee once again, her free hand offering me a little piece of paper with--unsurprisingly--her phone number written on it in pen.  
“Call me when you have the chance, baby,” she smirked, her hand waiting for mine to take it already, which is what I definitely won’t do.  
“I can’t, sorry,” I said, lightly pushing her hand with the number away as I saw a look of bewildered disappointment grow on her face.  
“Why not?” she pouted. “How can you refuse an offer from a girl like-”  
“I’m not into girls, first off. Say what you want, but...I’m gay,” I replied, not at all wanting to take back a single word I just said there, all thanks to the help of Gerard...when he was still somewhat sound-minded, that is. “Also...I’m already taken,”  
“Oh…,” Renee snorted, snatching the number back and walking right off, leaving empty-handed with no man to call her, and much more beyond that I’d dare not participate in with her. “Whatever. It’s your loss,”  
Not even bothering to think of what I’d be missing out on with the sleazy waitress, I walked right off back to our car, sitting down in the shotgun seat next to the shaken, overly-paranoid weirdo that’s taken me from my single status long ago.  
“What took you so long, Frankie? They could have caught us!” he asked frantically, revving up the engine to life and speeding out of the parking lot and on to the highway like the maniac he is.  
“Had to pay the bill, y’know. Could you at least slow down a bit?” I begged, hanging on to the edge of my seat for my dear life, hoping to god that Gerard doesn’t land us off the edge of a cliff or in a mashup between two or three other totaled vehicles.  
“Sorry, baby. We gotta get the hell outta here, away from the authorities. We can’t afford to let them find us! Heaven forbid that ever happens! Besides, we’ve got blood to shed tonight!” Gerard grinned wickedly, the bloodlust in his eyes returning, much to my long-dreaded fear. We are only hours away from doing just that; it’s so close I can almost sense the iron-like taste of blood on my tongue, making my stomach wanna puke out what little I’ve eaten at the diner we just left. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Mikey most certainly wasn’t wrong when he said something terrible is yet to happen tonight, but what he doesn’t know is that it’s gonna involve gallons of the red stuff that Gerard is itching to have splattered all over, especially on his hands and face.


	23. Give 'Em Hell, Kid

After the rather awkward series of events that ensued at the diner, we headed back to our room at the Holiday Inn and retired there, where we both painstakingly waited for sunfall to come, killing our time...at least, that’s what Gerard’s been doing, looking out the window of the room as he worked on some drawing in his sketchpad, even though I can’t see what it is since his back is facing me, his tall body blocking my view of the book in front of him. I, on the other hand, have been trying to grab onto every last minute for my dear life, just to have each one inevitably slip away from me as the hands on the wall clock ticked away. I know that tonight's drawing nearer as every minute to hour passes us by, and sadly, there’s nothing in my power I can do to stop it, no matter how I manage the spare time on my hands before we are soon to head out when the sun finally goes down. It doesn’t matter if I make it feel slow by staring at the bare ceiling or the stock scenery paintings on the walls, or make it go by a little faster by either taking a nap or watching tv show reruns; tonight will still come no matter what, and nothing can prevent it from doing so, as much as I wish there was a way to stop it dead in it’s tracks, sparing us from the madness and bloodshed that’s yet to happen. The only thing I can literally do now is sit and wait before Gerard decides it’s time to leave and pursue his oath of sweet, bloody revenge. I can’t run away, nor can I try to make up excuses to not go or try to change Gerard’s mind about what he’s been so hellbent on doing for the last several years, long before we first met on that fateful day months ago in the basement back at home. Because of the brutally honest truth that there’s no other option for me out of this ordeal, I am beyond hopeless, and with that, I am also beyond fucking scared outta my mind, so much that it seems to be losing itself more and more. I know I’ve made that clear millions of times before, but it’s honestly the best way I can even come close to describing how I feel. What’s more is there to say, anyway?  
I feel really tired for some odd reason. It’s probably due to the fact that I didn’t get much sleep last night, no thanks to the constant unfriendly reminders my mind keeps giving me about tonight. I could just easily fall asleep on this bed right here and right now; all I have to do is get in a comfortable position and shut my eyes, but I just can’t do that. If I pass out, time will go by faster, which means the night where...it happens will come to us quicker. I’m also scared of sleeping because there’s the fear of seeing that awful image in my head again; the image of the bloody-nosed Gerard holding my decapitated head in his hand, smiling menacingly as my own dead hazel eyes stare straight at me. That image is burned into my retina as much as it is in my mind, turning sleep into something I’ve had to avoid like the plague. My own eyes that I’ve come to hate have been tempting me the whole time with the toxic yet essential luxury, growing heavy and begging me to let them shut already. I’ve tried drinking coffee from the little brewer on the bathroom counter to give myself a boost of caffeine, but to no avail. The dead silence within the hotel room doesn’t make it any easier; it’s so quiet in here that I can’t even hear the soft scratching of Gerard’s pencil on the sketch paper of his pad, or the humming of the AC. It’s a quietness that’s so profound that it’s almost bordering on ominous, doing everything in it’s soundless power to deprave me of my senses and lull me to sleep. The last couple or so hours have been nothing but a full-out war with my own mind and the many fears dwelling in it, as well as time itself.  
As I lied still on the bed, something I’ve been doing now for the longest time in this room and no longer getting my ass up to drink more coffee or move around a bit, I looked up at the clock on the wall, seeing that it’s quarter til seven right now. So far, I’ve been losing this battle, and there’s no hope of redemption for me at all. At this point, I might as well just give up, knowing that my fate is sealed. I might as well also stop trying to fight the urge to sleep and let the nightmare fuel come full force to me the minute my mind drifts off to slumber. There’s no use fighting something I know I can’t ever stop. It’s a battle that’s meant to be lost, pretty much. I was bound to lose it from the very start. Accepting my loss and what’s yet to come in my sleep, I shut my eyes, caving into my whole body’s need for--  
“You’ve been awfully quiet, Frankie,” Gerard’s voice suddenly boomed throughout the room, breaking the dead silence like glass, it’s shards crashing to the floor. My eyes opened wide, my whole body jolting itself into full wake mode. It felt like he was invisible or not even there at all in the midst of my sleep-deprived agony, but here he is, still sitting in a chair facing the window, his body turned towards me to view mine in it’s entirety, sprawled out on the made bed, just like it has been for the last god knows how many hours. He smiled, setting his sketchbook down on the page he previously worked on as he stood up and laid down next to me, making himself comfortable close to my stiff and restless self. “Is something wrong, baby?”  
Oh yes, Gerard. There is something wrong. In fact, there’s a million things that are wrong, and many of them have to do with me! Can’t you see that, or are you blind? Are you playing dumb with me, or are you just that fucking oblivious and blinded by your own batshit craziness? There’s so much wrong with me and I’m a mess, just like you! Of course there’s something wrong, Gerard!  
“No,” I shook my head, too tired to even tell the truth or even care anymore. Doing that will get me nowhere. Gerard won’t care if I’m too tired or too scared. That won’t stop him from what he wants. To him, I am gonna help him get what he wants, whether I like it or not. It’s his way or the fucking highway. “I’m fine, Gee,”  
“Liar, liar, pants on fire. You’re bluffing, sugar,” Gerard scooted himself closer to me, his body so familiarly warm up against mine, his fingers brushing over my mildly perspiring forehead. “Come on, sugar pop. Tell me what’s wrong,”  
“I…,” I sighed, deciding that maybe it’s best if I just tell him a little bit. After all, I do feel far from fine. I must not look like it either if I feel so shitty. I’m not gonna be looking so fabulous if I’ve been lacking sleep, now am I? “I don’t feel good. I’m tired…,”  
“I know, baby. I know you aren’t feeling good. I can see it. Why haven’t you slept at all? You’ve been just laying around staring off into space the whole time while I’ve been working on my craft. Are you sure you’re fine, Frankie?”  
Holy shit. How did he know? Does he have eyes in the back of his head or something? I don’t think in the past several hours we’ve spent laying around in this hotel room that he turned around to look at me once until he finally spoke just moments ago. He was still like a statue in that chair, facing the window with his head down and focusing on his sketchpad. I’m almost sure he didn’t move a muscle, except for the ones in his arms and hands to work on whatever he was drawing. Is he psychic? It wouldn’t surprise me if he was. After all, he’s also a serial killer and an escaped mental patient, so nothing else would really surprise me at this point.  
“What? How did you know?” I asked. “How did you-”  
“Because, I just do. I know things, and I see and hear things too. Like I said, I may be a little outta my mind, but I’m not stupid. There’s a big difference, y’know,” Gerard leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on the nose, his warm lips sending chills down my spine. He looked deep into my eyes, searching for the hidden discontent behind them. “Now tell me, Frankie...what’s wrong? Why don’t you feel good? Why are you tired? Why are you unable to sleep? Why do you look so...distressed, should I say?”  
You know what? Fuck it. I have to tell him. I need to tell him how I really feel about what we’re about to do. I am scared, and he needs to know it. If I do tell him, maybe he’ll understand. He has to. As much of a raging revenge-obsessed lunatic he is, he’s a raging revenge-obsessed lunatic with empathy. Maybe I’m wrong about being unable to change Gerard’s mind; maybe, just this one time, it will work. There’s still so much doubt that such a thing will happen, but there’s that slight sliver of hope within me that there is still a possible chance, no matter how slim it may be. Maybe I haven’t lost this fight just yet. Maybe things will change if I let him know how genuinely scared I really am. It’s so genuine that I can feel it within me at full force. I’m shaking inside, just wanting to scream and cry and hide in a dark corner, away from everyone and everything.  
No, wait a minute...I don’t think I should tell him. Last time I expressed my doubts and fears about helping him kill Irvine, it didn’t go well at all. In fact, it ended horribly. That was when Gerard attacked me and screamed at me and attacked himself too. I never want to go through that again. I don’t want him to hurt me, just like I don’t want him to hurt himself. After all, I did promise to help him. I can’t back out now, because it’s a sealed deal at this point. I really am stuck now.  
Oh no...what do I do? What do I tell him? I can’t say anything because I’m that terrified. Is this the perfect time for me to panic? It sure as well might be, because now I’m really losing myself!  
“Frankie?”  
I can’t speak. It’s like my own throat is closing in on me, suffocating me slowly but surely. I can barely breathe now, and I’m huffing and puffing to catch my breath. Everything hurts now that I’m unable to even breathe! I can’t fucking breathe!  
“Frankie? Frankie, baby! Look at me!”  
I can’t see anymore. My vision’s so blurred that I can’t tell what’s what around me. It’s like everything’s gone into slow motion, and the whole world around me is disintegrating! Where did Gerard go? Where did I go? What’s even happening to me? Someone please help me! I don’t know if I’m dying, but for the love of fuck, someone please save me!  
“Frankie! Oh, poor baby! Stop crying sugar, I’m here!”  
It’s like everything just came right back to me, the whole world oriented back to it’s normal self when I felt that familiar set of arms wrap me up, holding me against his chest. His touch saved me from whatever horrible hybrid of chaos was just taking place. What did just happen though? Did I just get so scared that my mind frigged up, sending me into...well, whatever the fuck that was? Whatever that was that just happened, I’m still so shaken, so much that I’m crying like a baby, holding on to Gerard as if my whole life depended on it. It was that scary, like nothing I’ve experienced before. It’s almost like that bad trip I had off Bob’s weed all over again. Maybe I was right. Maybe I really am going crazy. Maybe a really unpleasant part of Gerard is starting to grow on me. I hope I’m wrong about that, though. Oh, I better be fucking wrong…  
“G-gerard,” I choked, my voice muffled in his shirt. “I’m sorry, Gee. I’m just...I’m just so scared! I’m fucking scared, Gerard! I’ve never killed anyone before. I’ve never even see anyone die right in front of me! I don’t even know what a dead body looks like outside of the movies! I’m so scared of getting hurt! I’m so scared of losing you...and I’m scared of losing myself too! I know I promised to help you, but...goddamnit, I’m just too scared! I’m sorry, Gerard! I’m sorry! I’m-”  
“Shhh…,” Gerard hushed my lips, placing a light finger over them as he started to stroke my hair again. “Calm down, sugar pop. It’s okay. There’s no need to be sorry. I understand how you feel. I understand why you’re scared,”  
“H-how so?” I uttered under my silenced voice, feeling a sudden pang in my chest. Did it work? Was I able to make Gerard think twice about what we’re about to do when we leave this hotel? Was I able to bring back the true Gerard I know and love that’s been hidden behind this monster? Was I able to spare the both of us from the insanity and carnage that’s yet to ensue? “Wh-what...what do you mean?”  
“I totally get why you’re so afraid, Frankie. I know you’ve never killed anyone, and it looks really scary based on what it’s been made out to be by this fucking society we live in. And yes, killing someone is obviously dangerous, but…,” Gerard’s face contorted as his voice trailed off, his expression turning from soft smiles to wide and wicked grins, chuckling playfully under his breath as his eyes lost whatever delicacy was previously behind them moments ago. “...but, if you just play your cards right and be careful enough, it won’t be so bad. In fact...it’ll be something you’ll never wanna forget, because it’s definitely one hell of an experience. I helped you back then when you were alone and hurting after your mom and dad left you for dead, and now that you’re well and no longer suffering, this is your way of returning the favor. Just know that you’re doing the right thing by helping me, becuase you’re doing this for me…,”  
Nope. I was wrong. I have failed. I haven’t changed his mind at all. I wasn’t even fucking close! Goddamnit….It’s all over. I’ve lost all hope at this point. What’s the point anyway? Of course he’s not gonna change his mind. But then again, that’s pretty hard to do, to try to change the mind of someone so sick in the head and corrupted.  
“Don’t you worry, baby,” Gerard continued, his laughs coming to a stop as he cuddled himself up against my motionless, dumbfounded self. “I don’t find it hard to believe that you’re a little scared. I’ll be right here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll protect you, Frankie. I promise,”  
I didn’t say anything as I wiped my tears dry. I am still far from convinced that we are not putting ourselves in grave danger for what we’re yet to do...or rather, what Gerard’s yet to do, dragging me along with him. He just can’t seem to get a grip that I really don’t wanna help kill someone, let alone with a complete psychopath. I’m not just scared of what we’re yet to do, but also who I’m doing it with. How can he protect me if he himself is such an insane, manipulative, and vicious threat anyway?  
“Come on, baby. Let’s go,” Gerard sat up, his hands clamped tight on my body as he lifted me up with him, passively forcing me to obey like the control freak he is. “It’s getting dark, so we should leave soon. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us, too. Car’s all packed up with all we need. Get yourself ready, and drink some more coffee to keep yourself up and alert if you need to,”  
Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. I know you mentioned earlier that we’re leaving at sunset, but this early? Are you serious right now, Gerard? Maybe I’m saying it’s too early because I am dreading this whole thing that much. We shouldn’t be doing this at all! This is a mistake!  
Dreading more and more what’s yet to come tonight, I pushed myself with full mental force to get my tired and distressed ass off the bed and to my feet, following Gerard’s orders and verbalizing no objections. After we both gathered our bearings and drank a few cups of coffee, I reluctantly followed Gerard out of the hotel room before I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks in the doorway, with Gerard walking right out and down the hall, leaving me behind. I suddenly thought of something very random, but somewhat vital to know--what was Gerard drawing? What was he so focused and working so intensely on while I was in a near-catatonic state on the bed earlier? One of the few things about Gerard that doesn’t scare the shit outta me is his phenomenal artistic talent, as well as his years of dedication to the craft. Whenever I see him so deep into his sketchbook or painting canvas, it’s essential for me to look at what he’s working on. My curious mind just seems to have that craving to know. I just hope it’s nothing grotesque like those graphic drawings of his from long ago. I just wanna see something nice, that’s all. I quickly turned back and walked to the table in the far corner of the room, looking down at Gerard’s open drawing book that’s sitting next to his worn-down pencil. It was when I got a good look at the page that I felt my heart stop.  
The page is blank, along with the others. Not even a single scribble are on any of them.  
_ _ _  
To my bitter luck, I was able to sleep throughout most of the long ride, but not very well. I kept slipping in and out of sleep again and again, constantly being greeted with that horrid image of Gerard in my dreams that I always dread seeing, always resulting in me nearly jumping in my seat waking up and leaving me on the edge of it. I’ve entirely given up on keeping myself awake to avoid seeing that fucking dream. I just needed to sleep that badly, and sleep deprivation doesn’t do my disturbed mind any favors. Maybe that’s just one of the reasons why I keep having the same nightmare over and over again; while my mind hasn’t been in a very good place knowing what’s yet to come for me and Gerard, I’ve been preventing myself from sleeping. It is common knowledge that sleep deprivation causes really bad nightmares, after all. It also causes you to start losing your fucking mind, and that’s exactly what’s been happening to me lately. Regardless of how much sleep I get, I’m still not gonna be alright. We are getting closer to our location with each mile we drive in the dead of night, and there’s still nothing I can do about it. All I really can do at this point is sit back and let everything take it’s course as my sanity slips further away from me.  
“We’re getting close,” Gerard said excitedly, confirming my fears as he pulled off the highway, his enthused eyes skimming over the road map to find his next turn. “It shouldn’t be long til we pull over to his street. From what I’ve gathered, he practically lives out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wooded area, so there’s no worry of onlooking neighbors to deal with. Traffic shouldn’t be a problem since it’s so late at night, thankfully. The warehouse isn’t that far from his house either. Everything’s going well according to plan so far!”  
Thanks, Gerard. Thanks for reminding me of why I’m inches away from having a full-out mental breakdown. Thanks for giving me more and more reasons to panic and let my anxiety get the best of me. Just pour more salt on the open wound, why don’t you? Thanks a fucking lot, Gerard. You’re a big help, man.  
“Are you nervous, sugar?” Gerard turned to me, eyeing me in a concerned matter at my visibly shaking and silent self. I can see from my own reflection in the car window that I am far more than just that. I just nodded quietly, my ability to speak long-gone.  
“Of course you are. I know you’re scared, baby,” he sighed, turning onto a road surrounded by nothing but dense woods, traversing us away from populated territory and further into darkness, the headlights illuminating the barely visible dirt road ahead of us. “Just remember what I told you, Frankie. I will fucking protect you, even if it means putting my own life on the line. I mean it. Do you understand?”  
He just doesn’t get it. That’s not the true reason why I’m scared...alright, it kinda is. I, of course, am not gonna be all that sound-minded knowing that there’s the risk of me getting my ass killed just straight ahead of us, but that’s not the number one reason why I am the way I am right now. All I did was nod in response though. There’s just no point of objecting to him at this point. It’s all futile, since he’s so caught up in his own lust for revenge and murder, as well as his own insanity.  
After what seemed like a long time driving on the bumpy dirt road surrounded by a mass of tree branches and bushes, we pulled up to an opening with a small, run-down house in the distance that’s far beyond renovation. Even though we’re still a good distance from it, it’s not hard to see the terrible shape it’s in all the way from over here several feet away. There’s no way in hell someone could possibly live in a house like this. If anything, it may as well be a haven for anyone involved in the underground drug industry. Maybe this is where someone’s meth lab is? I’ll be damned if that’s not the case. It definitely doesn’t look far off from being a home belonging to some kind of felon. After all, this place is supposedly the home of someone that participated in the cold-blooded murder of two children’s parents.  
“Well...this is it. We’re finally here!” Gerard announced a little too happily as he shut off the engine of the car, leaving us the forested blackness surrounding our car and the house just feet away from us. “It’s all here, right in front of us. Vengeance is so close to us, sugar! Oh, boy...I can already feel it!”  
Oh, I can already feel it too, Gerard. I definitely can feel the blood splattering on us, and I don’t like it one bit. I already hate how this whole thing feels.  
“Alright, baby. Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continued, catching his breath before he could possibly hyperventilate from too much excitement. “We’re gonna sneak up to the house to get a good view of our environment. Hopefully we can locate our target through one of the windows, but we gotta be very quiet and discreet. The worst that can happen is that he knows we’re here and sees us spying on him. Once we locate him, we’ll go from there and I’ll put together the game plan, alright?”  
Before I could even have the opportunity to respond, Gerard got out of the car and opened up the trunk of the car, pulling out a backpack and slumping it over his shoulders. He then walked back to the front door of the car, his staring eyes waiting for me to step out and follow him, leaving me no choice but to do so. I know he would never budge until I do what he wants me to. He knows deep down that I’ve really been dreading this, but he could care less. Reluctantly walking behind him, we crept through the overgrown plantation in near complete darkness, the sound of dead leaves and branches crunching under our shoes, the full moon above us being our only source of light. It wasn’t long before we soon got close to the house of our target, it’s bad shape becoming clearer and easier for the human eye to see, the unkempt lawn we’ve been walking through only being the tip of the iceberg. Gerard redirected me to the side of the house, the both of us crouching down on our knees below the few windows on the first floor. We both peeked through one of them, the tattered drapes leaving a small gap for us to see through to find our prey. I can see that there are some lights on inside. I can also see the silhouette of a man in one of them, his back facing us and body seeming to be in a sitting position, like he’s sitting at a table in a dining room or something.  
That must be Irvine that we see in the window.  
“Shit!” Gerard hissed under his breath, his face contorting and grimacing in frustration. “God fucking damn it! He’s awake!”  
“Well...now what?” I suddenly asked, knowing that Gerard’s first plan has likely already gone south, which unfortunately won’t stop him from pursuing what we came out here for.  
“Now, we move on to plan B. It will be a bit riskier than what I originally planned to do, but...it can still work,” Gerard excused himself and slumped down on the ground, opening up his bag and rummaging through it’s many contents. He then paused, looking back up at me. “However, Frankie...there’s a catch. This is where you come in. I need you to help me out here with this backup plan,”  
“Oh...h-how?” I gulped, feeling the hairs on my neck stand straight up.  
“Here, we’re gonna need this,” Gerard pulled out what appears to be some sort of bottle, along with a white washcloth. Confused and unable to see exactly what’s in his hand no thanks to the almost blinding darkness, I squinted my eyes to read the small text on the bottle’s label--  
Chloroform.  
Gerard plans to knock out his target with a chloroform rag, just like he did with Jack all those years ago...  
“What I need you to do is act as a distraction for him, like a decoy. You go in and put on a charade, act all frantic. Lie to him and say there was a car accident out on the road and that there’s people hurt, and ask him to use his phone. There’s one inside the kitchen. I’ll be watching through one of the windows to keep watch for you. Once you get inside the house and get him off guard, you’ll give me the signal when the coast is clear, and I’ll come in and do the dirty work, knocking him out with this chloroform rag. That’s all you gotta do for me, baby. Got it?”  
Are you kidding me?  
Are you fucking kidding me right now, Gerard? What the hell is wrong with you? You actually want me to go in there first, leaving me alone in the house with one of the dirtbags that killed your mom and dad? How in the holy mother of fuck does that sound like a good enough plan? It’s already a bad idea doing this whole kidnap and murder thing in the first place!  
“I...I don’t know, Gerard,” I shook my head, knowing in the back of my mind that I’d never be that suicidal, let alone to help someone kill a guy for revenge. I can’t stand here fucking around and beating around the bush. I need to tell him that that’s a really bad idea. “I...I can’t do that, Gerard. I just can’t. I can’t-”  
“Yes you can, Frankie! I know you can!” Gerard exclaimed under his hushed voice, grabbing onto my shoulders tightly as his desperate and wide-eyed gaze pierced right through me. “I know you’re afraid, but trust me! I know what I’m doing, and I’m not gonna let him hurt you! I did tell you that I will protect you, and goddamnit, I fucking will! You’ve gotta believe me, baby! Don’t you want me to get my revenge? Don’t you want the the people that ruined me to finally pay for all they’ve done to me? Don’t you...want me to be fixed, Frankie?”  
Yes. Yes, I do want you to be fixed, Gerard! I want to help fix you, just like I said I would. But does that really mean risking my own actual life? God knows what will happen if I put myself around a man like that inside! I don’t even feel safe around you sometimes, Gerard! You’ve been scaring me so much, and I want this side of you to just go away forever! I don’t want to be in love with a sick and delusional killer. I want to be in love with the Gerard I met that one night in the basement, who loves drawing tells me that life is worth living, no matter how ugly things get! I know I told you that I will help you do this if it really is the only way to help fix you, but now that we’re actually here, it’s just too much! It’s just so wrong!  
“Yes, I do, but…,” I paused, far from prepared for anything, even for something as simple as talking to Gerard. “I want to fix you, Gee. I do want to help, but...what happens if-”  
“No, stop,” Gerard cut me off, clearly losing his patience with me. “There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Just listen to me. I. Will. Not. Let. Him. Hurt. You. This isn’t my first time out on the dancefloor, Frankie. It may be for you, but you are here with someone that’s done this more than once. I know what I am doing, and I’m not dumb enough to let anything happen to you. Just do what I told you, and we’ll make it through this in one piece. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again--I will protect you. I never go back on my word. That is a fucking promise,”  
It doesn’t matter how many times you say that, Gerard. No plan is foolproof. Anything can happen, literally anything! But you know what? You win, yet again. It’s no use fighting it. I made my bed, now I’m gonna get fucked in it. It’s my fault for promising to help kill Irvine for you. But if anything does happen, especially if I get my ass handed to me, then guess what? It’s your fault then, Gerard. The blood will be on your hands. I’m only doing this because I have no other choice, and I got myself in this mess with you. Plus, as fucked up as it sounds, I also want Irvine dead after the horrendous things he did you and your family, but wishing death upon someone is completely different from making it actually happen. You could say I’m a coward for that, but I’d rather be that than someone with a deathwish for themselves. I really, really hope you’re happy, Gerard. You. Fucking. Win. Again. Like always.  
“Alright...fine,” I sighed, caving in for good and handing over the last of my dignity. I may as well have been handing over my whole life as well. “I’ll do it,”  
“That’s the spirit, sugar. I know you can do it!” Victorious yet again, Gerard took me into a tight hug before parting from me, crouching back down into his hiding spot and leaving me alone to fulfill the mission I’ve been forced to go through with. “I’m counting on you, Frankie. Go, now. Give ‘em hell, kid,”  
Hah. As if you haven’t already given me any of that, Gerard.  
Being the pathetic excuse of a murderer’s side-kick that I am, I slowly walked away from Gerard and back around to the front door of Irvine’s cheesebox of a house, feeling my chest constrict and sweat pour down my throbbing forehead. My legs are turning to jelly, as well as my insides. I haven’t even made it to the front door and I’m already freaking out, but for good reason. I just can’t believe what I’m about to do. I am about to go face to face with one of the killers of Gerard’s mom and dad, one of the people that ruined him ever since that terrible day. What’s even more scary is that we are about to bind, kidnap, torture, and kill him...and I am taking part in all of that. What kind of person have I let myself become doing this to someone? I am doing the world a favor by ridding it of vile scum, and I’m also doing a favor for the person I love by helping get what he’s so badly wanted to help himself get fixed, too.  
But is that still a favor I can be proud of doing? At the end of the day, I still will be a murderer, which is exactly what both Gerard and Irvine are.  
After forcing every ounce of energy within me out of my body, I finally managed to get it to the front door. Now all I have to do is knock, but I just can’t seem to be able to do that. My whole body is stuck, frozen in crippling fear. He’s right beyond this door, which is the only thing separating us right now. I am that close right now, yet my own mind as well as my sanity is all so far away from me. Where have I gone? What the hell is happening to me right now? What am I doing right now?  
Just knock, Frank. That’s all you gotta do. Just knock the fucking door. Just do it, Frank. Just fucking do it, you stupid son of a--  
Knock.  
Knock.  
Knock.  
Knock.  
Knock.  
There. I fucking did it. I knocked on the goddamn door. I did what you told me to, and now it’s done. Are you happy now, brain? Are you? You are? Okay. Good. Are you happy too, Gerard? I hope you’re still watching me. Oh, you better be. You also better be fucking glad that I’m-  
“What do you want?”  
I nearly jumped back when I just noticed the scrawny, prune-faced man standing in front of me at the door, his voice shockingly loud and booming, despite the guy looking old enough to be my great-grandfather and anything but intimidating (yet, ironically, this is one of the scumbags that killed Gerard’s parents). I think that’s only because I am a space cadet and got so caught up in the moment that I didn’t notice him answering the door. I can tell by the bitter look on his face ruined by years of (very likely) drug use that he doesn’t look pleased at all. I must’ve interrupted him while he was busy with something, or whatever else. Speaking of drug abuse, another thing that seems to stand out about this guy is the way he’s acting. His sunken eyes are dilated and he’s shaking so much that I swear he’s gonna explode just standing here near me. He’s clearly on something, seeing the string of white powder under his nose...  
“O-oh...I, ah…Oh! Oh my god!” I nearly shouted, just remembering what Gerard told me to tell this guy. Using my few years in theatre classes from high school, I immediately put on my best charade to look far more convincing than I must do right now. “There was an accident out on the road, and-and...some people are hurt badly! I need to use your phone to call an ambulance, quickly!”  
“Oh...is that right?” he sneered, not showing an ounce of remorse for the fake people that got themselves in danger from the fake accident that I just made up, being the sociopathic cunt he is. Seeing the shit-eating grin on his face, he clearly finds this false yet tragic matter hilarious, the heartless bastard. “And I just so happened to be the poor son of a bitch you had to run to to ask for their fucking phone? Alright, fine. You can use the phone, but after that, get the hell out of here. Capiche?”  
Wow. The assholery is strong with this one. This guy doesn’t really scare me like I thought he would. I’ve seen far worse than this before. Such an example is the dark and unpleasant side of Gerard Way...  
Irvine walked away and back to whatever the hell it was he was doing at the dining room table, passively letting me inside his mess of a home. The whole place reeks of an insulting stench of beer and cigarettes, as well as what I can only assume is the foul smell of stale piss. There’s garbage scattered all around the place, as well as posters of naked women all over the walls. This place is nothing short of disgusting, just like the piece of sub-human garbage that inhabits it. Walking past the Irvine sitting hunched over at the table that’s scattered with half-empty beer bottles, I made my way down the hall to the kitchen to (not) use the telephone, and give Gerard the ok to do his thing when I see him outside the window. Now I really do wanna see Irvine get his own ass handed to him after seeing him in person, kinda…  
Holy shit. Did I really just let that thought cross my mind? I actually do wanna see Gerard hurt someone? Is my mind fucking with me again, or am I turning into someone I thought I never would? What is wrong with me--  
“Shit!” I yelped, feeling myself slip and fall on the hard tile floor, grabbing on to the end of the dining room table for support and sending it down with me, the wood and glass crashing against the tile floor. I guess I must’ve slipped on some of the spilled beer on the floor like an idiot. I also caused the contents of the table to spill all over the place, including what appears to be a white powder and some razor blades. In fact, it looks familiar, almost like the same powder that was on Irvine’s face--  
“You motherfucker!” A voice growled violently as I felt a sudden hard blow to my head, sending me back to the ground flat on my face. I gasped, seeing an enraged Irvine towering over my now defenseless body, ready to beat the ever-loving shit out of me. Before I could back away, he punched me again right in the face, making me collapse once again as I felt a warm and stinging moisture escape from my nose and my head throb. He grabbed me by my hair, slamming my head again and again against the filthy tile floor as he continued to throw a string of cusses at me. “You son of a bitch, you fucking dumb cocksucker! I will fucking kill you, worthless piece of shit! I will fucking kill you!”  
Oh no. I was right. I was right, Gerard. I knew I was gonna get myself knee-deep in some shit. I knew it. I fucking knew it! I’m in the shit for sure, and it hurts so much as he hits me again and again! Please help me, Gerard. Where are you? I can’t see anymore. I can’t get away, either! I am dying! That feeling from earlier is coming back to me, where it feels like I am dying. But now, I really am dying! I don’t wanna die! I don’t want this monster to kill me, just like he did to your mom and dad! Please don’t let me die, Gerard! Please, Gerard...please, save me! Save-  
“Let go of him, you piece of shit! You don’t hurt him! Let go of my baby!”  
I again stumbled to the floor when I felt Irvine’s hand let go of my hair, followed by my ringing ears hearing a conflict of exchanged punches and yelling take place in front of me. Struggling against my weakness, I brought my head up to find the man that just attacked me in an all-out fistfight with Gerard, who appears to have forced his way in through one of the broken windows, seeing the shards of glass cut into his skin. However, he doesn’t look fazed by these wounds at all. Somebody hurt his sugar pop, and because of that, he is pissed...in fact, really pissed. Now the person that hurt his sugar pop has to pay in blood, and lots of it.  
“You son of a bitch!” Gerard screamed after being received one too many punches to the face, slamming the bottle of chloroform from earlier against Irvine’s head, the glass shattering to pieces against it and sending his whole body to the ground, knocking him out cold. That didn’t stop Gerard, though. His fists continued to go to town on Irvine’s unconscious body, his eyes wide and brimming with pure hate-driven rage at him for hurting the one and only person dear and close to him. “How fucking dare you hurt Frankie! How fucking dare you even lay a finger on him! Nobody hurts my baby! You are so dead! Do you hear me? You are so fucking dead! So. Fucking. Dead!”  
After Gerard finally pummeled Irvine's face enough times, he stopped, his whole body panting with exhaustion as if it just finished running a marathon. All I did was stare in utter shock. He actually saved me. He physically saved me from getting my ass murdered. He actually protected me, just like he said he would. He defended me with every ounce of his life, throwing himself at Irvine for the sake of saving me from him possibly killing me. He is my superhero with no cape.  
”G-gerard…,” I weakly called out as I stood up, wiping at the blood at my face. Like the weakling I am, I stumbled and began to collapse, the wounds inflicted upon me weighing me down. I am so lightheaded that I'm on the verge of passing out. I can barely even feel my own legs failing to hold me up on my two feet.  
”Frankie!” Gerard hollered, rushing to my aid and catching me before my body could touch the floor once again. Scooping me up on his bleeding arms, he held on tightly to me, cradling me like I'm his one and only child. He brushed my bangs away from my face, grabbing a cloth from his bag and began to wipe at the bloodstains on my beaten self. I don't think any of the wounds on my face could even compare to the genuine turmoil and worry on his face though, seeing the tears run from his bloodshot eyes. “Oh, my baby...my poor baby is hurt! I let that monster hurt my baby...I'm so pathetic!”  
”Gerard...I'm so sorry,” I said with true remorse, knowing that my clumsiness faltered his plan, and because of that, it almost costed me my whole life. “I fucked up, Gerard. I didn't mean to-”  
”No!” Gerard cried, shaking his head violently, his grip on my body trembling. “It's all my fault, Frankie! I'm such a fool for putting you in danger like that. I almost got you killed! I'm the one that should be sorry. I told you I would protect you...and it’s safe to say that I fucking failed! I almost lost you to him, just like what happened to...d-daddy and…m-mama!”  
Giving in to his immense guilt, Gerard buried his face into my chest and wept, still holding on to me with his dear life. It's like I'm the one and only thing that he has left that gives him life, and he almost lost it forever. But he didn’t. He saved it, unlike what he was able to do for his mom and dad all those years ago. He managed to salvage the one and only thing that keeps him from losing his whole self.  
“Don’t cry, Gerard. You saved me. You saved my life!” I said, stunned that such a thing actually happened. I don’t wanna see Gerard cry again. I actually want him to be happy that he didn’t lose another thing so precious to him, because he’s already lost too much. He spared me from a death that I wouldn’t even be satisfied with going into the afterlife, if such a thing even exists.  
“I know I did, but I had to,” Gerard sniffled, wiping at his eyes as he resumed tending to my wounds with some first-aid stuff he pulled out of his bag. “I’m the one that got you in grave danger...and I was the one that had to pull you out. How could I be so careless? I’m so pathetic for doing such a thing to you! How could I ever live with such a thing, knowing that I actually had the audacity to do that to someone precious like you? I’m such an idiot!”  
Gerard slammed his fist hard on the wall, the impact of the loud bang echoing throughout the house and sending chills down my spine. He then turned and glanced over at the unconscious Irvine, his body sprawled out on the kitchen floor, broken glass shards protruding from his bruised and bloodied head.  
“Now you’re really gonna get it, you degenerate pile of filth! There’s a place worse than hell that awaits you...and I’m gonna drag you there!” Gerard growled, venom spewing from his hateful glare as he eyed his fallen prey. He snorted, a wad of mucus and spittle projecting from his mouth and on to Irvine’s face, then proceeded to give it a good solid kick before turning back to me, his eyes still wide and bloodshot with homicidal wrath.  
“You sit and rest, sugar. I’ll get you some bandages and gauze for your wounds. I’ll also get this place cleaned up. After that, I’ll bind and pack up this piece of shit dubbed Irvine at my feet, then we’ll leave with it to the warehouse. Got it?”  
I didn’t say anything. I just nodded silently, keeping myself quiet. I stayed that way throughout the whole ritual of the cleanup and binding and dragging of Irvine to the car trunk, as well as the ride to the warehouse Gerard, as if it were all a moment of silence for the remaining sanity within the both of us that’s about to be lost when we reach our next destination, that being Gerard’s torture chamber and former home.


	24. Mama

I think it’s safe to say that Gerard was fuming with anger the entire ride to the warehouse, gritting his teeth as both of his hands tightly gripped the wheel while driving an alarming twenty miles over the speed limit, his bloodshot eyes wide and nearly bulging right out of their sockets. He’s still beyond enraged after what happened earlier when he set me up as a decoy for Irvine. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. He may as well have steam coming out of both ears, with his face as red as a tomato all from just how infuriated he is. I’m no stranger to seeing Gerard this mad, but it still scares the ever loving shit out of me, alongside with his poor driving skills that could very well get us killed. Gripping onto the handlebar above my seat, my ass is on the edge, praying that such a thing doesn’t end up happening to us after all. Even though I’m still extremely shaken after what happened earlier back at Irvine’s house, it’s Gerard that’s the one that really needs to slow the fuck down and calm the fuck down.  
“Hey, uh...G-gerard,” I stuttered, my voice faltered from how much of a shaking mess I am right now, no thanks to Gerard’s shoddy and reckless driving. “You think you could slow down a bit-”  
“That son of a bitch!” Gerard roared for the millionth time ever since that aforementioned son of a bitch nearly pummeled me to death earlier. “He’s gonna get it! He’s really gonna pay for what he did to you, Frankie! I can’t believe I let that piece of shit hurt you! He’s really gonna pay for all he’s done! You’ll see!”  
The entire ride consisted of nothing but Gerard screaming and cursing as he drove like a maniac all the way up to the point where we reached the darkest corners of rural New Jersey to the old slaughterhouse which, of course, looks like any other abandoned warehouse you’d see in the midst of the city--broken windows, graffiti-covered brick walls, overgrown plantation, and so on. I can somewhat read the weathering print on the large sign above the front entrance--Lancaster Meat Services & Slaughterhouse, since 1890. This withering place that’s far away and obscured from the heart of town is where Gerard used to live before Ray took him in, and it’s easy to say that based off the bad shape the exterior of the place is in, it’s a complete dump that’s home to the damned. I can’t even begin to imagine how atrociously desolate the interior must look, knowing the fact that this place used to be a killing ground for innocent livestock that most definitely must’ve lived in horrible conditions prior to their bloody deaths, being turned into food for human consumption. Now that this place is being revisited, there’s more slaughter that’s yet to take place, but what’s different is the quantity of what’s to be killed, as well as what exactly that is being killed. It’s not another pig or a cow that’s gonna have it’s guts spilled and it’s body desecrated. It’s a human being that’s gonna be the lamb put to slaughter; a very vile human being that’s more depraved and filthier than any poorly nurtured animal.  
“Ahh...home, sweet home. Oh, how I’ve missed this place,” Gerard sighed, turning off the ignition of the car, leaving us in silent darkness within the car as his eyes stared in admiration of his old haven from the outside world. He then turned to me and smirked, those hazel eyes of his eager to show me his dark and soulless former humble abode. “This is where lived before...the authorities came looking for me. Come on, baby. Let me show you around. We gotta get unpacked and ready for our little show, too,”  
Reluctantly following his orders and wondering about the first thing he said about living in this godforsaken place, I followed Gerard, opening up the back door of the car and helping him unload one heavy bag after another from it, my morbidly curious self being unaware of what exactly the contents of these backpacks and suitcases are (seriously, are they all filled with rocks?). After doing so, we carried them all inside, my nose being filled to the brim with an insulting stench of mildew and dried blood as my eyes took in the ill-lit scenery all around me. We’re in a large room with tile walls and a cement floor, with large metal meat hooks hanging from the ceiling, sitting still like the wind hasn’t greeted them with it’s impact in ages. It was when I got another look at the tile walls that I started to feel uneasy. There’s writing all over the walls, printed in what appears to be black ink, the handwriting not far off from chicken scratch, yet all far too familiar to me, because I know exactly who wrote all this stuff on the walls. It’s all nothing more than a bunch of illegible nonsense written on these walls, representing the ramblings of a madman. It’s also from a madman who used to live in this forgotten place, and is also standing in front of me right now, unpacking some of the bags to assemble his tools of torture. There’s only one word in this mish-mash of poor handwriting I can read; a four-lettered word that is not at all uncommon for a young child to utter. It’s also a word that Gerard has used quite often to speak of his late mother.  
Mama.  
“Frankie, look in one of the bags and grab me some rope, please?” Gerard said, bringing out a folding chair and setting it out in the center of the room in front of two large pillars not far off from each other. Without saying a word, I did as I was asked, rummaging through one bag after another until I eventually found a bunch of rope all bundled up in a bag. I handed it to him, who just placed it down on the floor, then turned back and flashed a wicked grin at me. His whole plan is coming together nice and smoothly, much to my horror.  
“Beautiful...just beautiful!” he cackled, the grotesque smile glued to his face, his eyes warped with mania. “I know exactly how we are gonna ruin him, Frankie. I want him to pay for everything he’s done, especially all he’s done to you, sugar. I can’t wait to spill his blood and guts. I can’t wait to make him fucking suffer! Come on, baby. Let’s go get that piece of filth out of the car. Let’s go get our pig ready for slaughter!”  
Oh no...oh, fuck no. It’s happening. It has begun. We are nearing the time where Irvine gets executed in the bloodiest way imaginable, and Gerard is already losing himself once again. We are literally only minutes away from what I’ve been dreading and have been so scared of all this time. I want Irvine to suffer, but I don’t wanna be the one to witness it, especially since the executor himself is just as much of a terrifying, bloody disaster to see. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t think I can be any more scared than I am now, because it’s happening again! I can’t move. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. I can’t-  
“Baby?” Gerard called out, making me jump at his booming voice startling me out of wherever my mind was just at, his body waiting for me to follow him. “You coming?”  
“Y-yeah...I’m coming,” I replied, reluctantly walking out the front door with Gerard and to the trunk of the car. I really started to believe Gerard didn’t need my help as I saw him open up the trunk door and literally drag Irvine’s knocked out body on the gravel and dirt floor by the feet without any struggle or plea for assistance, making his request for me to assist him deemed as useless. Maybe he just told me to come with him so that I dare not try to run away behind his back, because that is something I can very well do, but am just far to scared to do so. He will find me if I were to do such a thing, and it sure as hell wouldn’t end well at all. Carelessly dragging Irvine’s body like a ragdoll, Gerard shoved him inside and began to strip him of all his clothes, then proceeded to take the rope and tie it around each of his wrists and ankles, and tied the other ends of the rope to the two pillars, lifting up his light and malnourished body with barely any struggle and hanging him upside down with his body stretched out, giving him the resemblance of a frog carcass on a dissection table. I couldn’t help but gag a little at the sight of Irvine’s bare-assed body being bound in such a way. It’s not only seeing him naked that makes me cringe, but also what’s yet to be done to it.  
“Alright, baby...looks like the show’s ready to begin,” Gerard sang, grabbing what appears to be a toolbox and sat down on the folding chair he set out earlier, taking a seat in front of his stretched out victim. “You just sit back and relax for now. I’ll let you know when the grand finale begins, because that’s when I’m gonna need your help. For now, you just enjoy the show…,”  
Here it is. This is where the show begins, just like Gerard said. This is where Gerard finally begins to get the bloody revenge he’s longed to have. This is where the blood begins to be shed. This is where someone dies in the show, at the hands of a sadistic killer. This is where I’m soon to take part in the show, more specifically, the bloody grand finale. This is where all of Gerard’s sanity is to be lost forever, as well as mine. Sadly, there’s nothing I can do about any of it. I can’t run away, not only because I know my attempt to do so will be in vain, but also because I just can’t move. I am paralyzed by my own crippling fear of impending doom. It’s all coming back to me, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do. All I really can do is sit back and watch the show, and watch the madness unfold.  
“Wake up! Wake up, you worthless piece of shit!” Gerard hissed, slapping Irvine across the face so hard that I could hear the impact echo in my ears. He slapped his face again and again, leaving his face as red as the blood that’s about to be spilled from him. “I said wake up! Wake the fuck up, you-”  
“Huh? What? Wha-OW!” Irvine hollered, being jolted awake by Gerard’s continuous slaps. Despite being groggy and clearly disoriented, his eyes frantically looked around, trying to figure out just what the hell is happening. I think it took him a bit too long to finally realize just what was happening to him, seeing him struggle in the ropes and unable to free himself. That was when his eyes widened in utter shock, snapping from his barely conscious state and already screaming his head off. “Wh-what...what the fuck? Where am I? Who the fuck are you? Please, let me go! Please-”  
“Shut up!” Gerard growled, slapping Irvine clean across the face once again, making him go silent as he continued to tremble in paralyzed fear. Gerard grabbed him by the hollow cheeks, squeezing his face as his nails digged into them, making his lips pucker like a fish. “You only speak when I give you the permission to...got it?”  
“Wh-wht th fck? Wht th hll are-” Irvine mumbled through his squeezed mouth despite his captor’s orders to not do so, still frantic and just about clueless to what’s really happening. “Pls lt m go. Pls-”  
“I SAID SHUT UP!” Gerard roared, slapping Irvine again and again as his eyes widened in infuriated wrath, making his victim whimper and wince in pain until he fell silent as Gerard grabbed him by the face again under his sharp-nailed hands. “You do not fucking speak until I tell you to. If you dare speak again...you will really, really fucking regret it. Do I make myself clear?”  
Nodding in response, Irvine didn’t utter a word, finally following his master’s orders. I can see that he’s still beyond fucking confused, almost completely oblivious to what’s yet to happen to him, as well as what the reason behind it is. He’s definitely shaking, his body shivering in the cold as his eyes stayed as wide as golf balls, looking so hopeless.  
“Good. Now...I have some questions to ask you, and I want you to answer me. Got it?” Gerard tightened his grip around Irvine’s cheeks one last time before letting go, his face red and scattered with claw marks. Gerard turned around to face me, his face immediately transitioning from twisted anger to innocent smiles, winking at me before turning back, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I know he did that to check up on me, to make sure I wasn’t coming up with any ideas to escape. He wants me to watch him torture and kill Irvine in all his grotesque glory. “I want you to take a good look at me, and tell me who I am. I want you to think long and hard specifically about what you’ve done long ago, because that will help you remember who I am. Understand?”  
“Wh-what? What are you talking about?” Irvine gawked. “What do you mean? What do you--OW!”  
“Do you understand?” Gerard hissed, his voice ice-cold. He grabbed Irvine’s face into his hands again and brought it right to Gerard’s, glaring at him as he began to speak through clenched teeth. “I want you to just shut the fuck up and look at me, and do as I fucking say. Take a good look at me, and think about who I am, as well as what you’ve done all those years ago. Like I said before, all of that will help you remember who I am, as well as the people you’ve ruined. Think, you miserable piece of shit. Think of what you’ve done, as well as the lives you’ve ruined...or is that too hard for your pathetic mind to process? Go ahead, Irvine. Think. Think of all the crimes you’ve committed, as well as people you’ve killed. That’ll help jog your memory to start figuring out who I am, and why you’re here with me. Think, Irvine. I’ll wait. I now give you the permission to open your stupid mouth and talk,”  
Letting go of a frantic and mortified Irvine, Gerard sat back in his chair and reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighter, lighting the cancer stick up and taking a long drag from it, followed by blowing the nicotine-fused smoke in his bewildered prey’s face, sending him into a coughing frenzy. I know he can’t take a moment to stop and think about who the man in front of him with the cigarette is; he’s trapped and scared shitless, so of course he’s not gonna be thinking straight and rationally. I can see in his frustrated yet restless eyes and mutters of anxiety that he’s trying to do so, but is failing miserably.  
“I-I...I don’t know!” he cried. “I-I don’t know who the fuck you are! H-how the hell do you even know my name? I...I just don’t know! Whoever you are, just please let me go! I’ll do anything! I’ll give you anything! You want money? I’ll give it to you! I’ll fucking give you anything you fucking want, just please, for the love of--”  
“Shut up,” Gerard silenced Irvine once again, his free hand slapping him clean across the face, then took another hard drag from his half-burnt away nicotine stick. He glared at his piece of meat to terrorize, it’s head weary and still from the impact of the slap it was just given, it’s eyes heavy and no longer frantic. Shaking his head in bitter disapproval and annoyance, Gerard grabbed Irvine by a handful of his hair, yanking his head forward so their faces were nearly touching. “God, your voice is so annoying. You just never shut the fuck up, do you? You’re giving me a goddamn headache. You really can’t remember anything, can you? Here, maybe this will jog your memory a bit…,”  
Flicking off the ashes from his cigarette, Gerard raised it and planted it right on to Irvine’s skin in the space between his two eyes, sending him into a screaming and flailing frenzy under Gerard’s tight grasp on his head. Being forced to watch in the corner of the room, I felt myself cringe, shivers running down my spine as I heard the sound of the burning stick singeing and hissing on flesh.  
“Come on, you piece of shit! Think! Who am I?” he interrogated, pushing the cigarette down harder and harder on the skin of Irvine’s head. “Come on now! I ain’t got all fucking night!”  
“I don’t know! I don’t fucking know, okay? I don’t know anything! Just please let me go!” Irvine cried, his whimpers of genuine fear and pain making my insides do a flip-flop in my body. What unsettles me even more than Irvine’s cries is the fact that Gerard’s clearly enjoying all this, bringing pain upon someone that’s unable to defend himself and seeing him scream and cry and beg for their miserable life. This is what he’s longed to do for years, and now that it’s in his hands, he’s savoring every bloody moment of it...and all I can do is keep watching, and dare to not even think of running away. I can still feel Gerard’s eyes on me, as well as his mind, despite all of that clearly occupied on the tortured soul right in front of him. He’s still watching my every move. He wants me to keep watching the show.  
“So, you really don’t remember anything, do you? You’re fucking pathetic,” Gerard growled through clenched teeth as he threw his nearly gone cigarette on the floor, putting it out with a good stomp as he continued to tightly hold on to the back of Irvine’s head, their faces still so close to each other that I can almost see the spittle flying out of Gerard’s grinding teeth on to Irvine’s face. “If your stupid mind really can’t process something so simple, then I guess I’ll be fucking courteous enough to fill you in. It really boggles my mind that you don’t remember the two innocent people you’ve killed, the two children you’ve scarred, the family you’ve ruined so many years ago. I almost refuse to believe you don’t remember anything. I think you’re bullshitting me, but if you’re not...then fuck it, I’ll tell you. I am one of those children you’ve ruined since that day you killed his own flesh and blood parents. I am one of the sons of the Way couple that you murdered. My name is Gerard Way, and I am here to get my revenge and fucking kill you...after what you’ve done to my...d-daddy and...m-mama! I will make you feel every single ounce of pain I’ve felt over the past twenty years. I...will...fucking...kill...you!”  
It was at that moment when I think Irvine finally got through his thick skull who the man torturing him really is. It’s like it all came back to him, the memories of him killing Gerard and Mikey’s mom and dad all those years ago with his side-kick Cecil. I can see it’s all crossing his mind, seeing his eyes and mouth widen in shock. He probably never thought back then that day that one of the sons of his murdered parents would eventually grow up to become a revenge-seeking killer that would go on a quest to kill the two culprits responsible for the heinous act that ruined his whole life.  
“Y-you...you what?!” Irvine barked, his voice twisted with bewilderment and utter shock. “Y-you...you’re one of the brats of that couple we robbed and killed? You’re one of their fucking kids?”  
“You’re goddamn right I am!” Gerard snarled, eyes and voice still full of wrath. “You bet your ass I am...and now that you know who I am, I’m pretty sure you know why you’re here, yes? I’m gonna make you fucking suffer. I’m gonna make you feel every ounce of pain that’s been inflicted upon me. You’ll never know what I felt until I show all of it to you. You will never know...because you’re shit. You’re fucking shit! You’re nothing but fucking dogshit that doesn’t know a thing about what I went through...and the only way you’ll find out is if I make you experience every last ounce of it before you die,”  
“N-no! Don’t kill me! I don’t wanna die!” Irvine yelped hysterically, flailing under Gerard’s tight grasp. “Please don’t kill me-”  
“Be quiet!” Gerard interrupted, giving the back of Irvine’s head a good yank, which succeeded in shutting him up. “Just shut your goddamn mouth and keep it shut. And quit flailing around, too. I want you to stay quiet and still. We haven’t even started yet! Now…,” Gerard paused, turning his head over to me with a grim smile growing across his face. “Frankie, baby...I need to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly. How many?”  
What? How many what? What are you asking me, Gerard? How many what?  
“Wh-what?” I asked reluctantly, my voice shaky. “How many what?”  
“How many times did he hit you, Frankie? How many times did this motherfucker hurt my little sugar pop? Tell me,”  
Gerard, what do you mean? I don’t know how many times I got pummeled by Irvine! I was near death and on the brink of unconsciousness! Counting the blows to my head and body (or anything related to math, for that matter) is one of the last things I’d be doing when I’m being attacked! I haven’t a fucking clue, Gerard! What do you want me to do, count my bruises? I don’t know how many times he hit me!  
“I...I don’t know,” I answered hesitantly. “I can’t remem-”  
“How many, Frankie? How many times?!” Gerard barked, his breaths growing heavy under his clenched teeth, going into full-rage mode dramatically in the blink of an eye. “How many times? Ten? Twenty-”  
“T-twenty!” I yelped, feeling the inner me curling up into a ball of cowardice from the man nearly screaming right in my face. “Twenty times,”  
“Ahh...twenty,” Gerard repeated, rapidly and terrifyingly transitioning again from full-out rage to calmness, his whole body no longer tensed-up from the amount of rage brewing within him. He smiled slowly, bending down and opening up his toolbox, pulling out a set of plyers and glaring back at Irvine with that wicked smile still on his face. “So, twenty’s the magic number, huh? Well then...let’s start counting then, shall we?”  
“Wh-what? What the hell are you talking about? What are you--AHHHH!” Irvine screamed, kicking and flailing within the ropes wrapped around him as Gerard took the pair of plyers to on to Irvine’s left index finger, ripping the nail slowly off the skin. Blood poured out from the fresh wound and onto the floor, giving the plain dingy cement floor a rather crimson and horrifying tint. That was when I couldn’t even stop myself from curling up in the corner, blocking myself out from Irvine’s ear-shattering screams. I also just can’t afford to look at the horror that’s unfolding in front of me. It’s making me feel so sick just knowing it’s all right in front of me, no matter how much my mind tries to run away from it. My stomach is churning. I feel like I’m on the verge of throwing up, despite trying my hardest to not envision Gerard ripping each of Irvine’s fingernails from the flesh of his digits.  
“Two!” Gerard hollered as he started to go to town with the plyers on Irvine’s next finger, followed by another wave of Irvine’s screams and cries of agony. “Three!”  
“No! Stop! No more, please! No more...AAAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHH!”  
“Four!”  
“Oh god, please help me! Oh my god! Make it stop, make it stop! Please help me, god!”

That was all that ensued; nothing but a blur and a vicious cycle of Gerard ripping off Irvine’s fingernails, then after that, all his toenails as Irvine cried and screamed and begged his absent god to help him from the hell he’s been put through by the person that’s been through the same place and back. I just couldn’t bear to look at all, just like any other sound-minded person would do. I had to swallow my puke a handful of times before it all twenty rounds of Gerard ripping off Irvine's nails finally ended. After it did, Irvine’s fingers and toes were nothing more than a severed and bloody mess, his whole self beyond hysterical and begging for mercy as his nails laid scattered all over the floor, surrounding him and Gerard, who’s still standing in front of him, smiling like he’s having the time of his life, which he unfortunately most indeed is. As for me, I am so numb and sick that I’ve become almost completely shiftless. I can’t move a single inch if I even tried, as well as utter even one word. I’m also shaking and sweating so much that my whole body is nearly soaked to the bone in perspiration. I might as well have become full-out catatonic after all I've witnessed, and the worst part is, the torture is still far from over.  
“Well, Irvine,” Gerard sneered, reaching back into his toolbox to find his next torture device of choice. “Are you ready for act two?”  
“N-no! P-please stop! No m-more...no more!” Irvine cried, his speech barely comprehensible from how much he’s been shaking. “P-please stop! I’ll do anything!”  
“Oh, come on! We’ve barely even started! That was hardly a warmup!” Gerard exclaimed joyously as he pulled out a hunting knife from his box, waving it in front of his mortified victim’s face. The expression on Gerard’s then shifted from smiles to murderous glares instantaneously, still holding the knife in front of Irvine as he scanned over his ruined body in deliberation. “Now that you suffered for every single time you hit my sugar pop, I’m gonna make you hurt for all that you did to daddy and mama, you son of a bitch. While I do, I think I wanna keep something, like a souvenir to remind me of this glorious day like a memorable vacation...but what will I take? Hmm…,”  
“No, please! I’m sorry for killing your parents! It was a fucking mistake, I swear! I’m sorry for-”  
“Shut the fuck up!” Gerard nearly screamed, slapping Irvine hard across the face once again. “You are not fucking sorry, you disgusting piece of shit! Sorry doesn’t do shit! Sorry won’t fix me from how much you and Cecil ruined me! Sorry won’t bring back daddy and mama! Sorry will not save you! You are hopeless! You hear me? Fucking hopeless! Now…,” he stopped, continuing to scan over Irvine’s body in deep thought until he paused, his eyes widening with newfound enlightenment. “Ah-ha! I know what I’ll take with me! You sit tight now,”  
Gerard reached back into his box and pulled out a small Mason jar, setting it down beside him as he slowly brought the knife to one of Irvine’s ears, holding it just above the surface of the skin as Irvine shook and whined in utter panic, blinded by his own hysteria to what’s yet to come.  
“Now, this is all for what you’ve done to daddy…,” Gerard paused as he whispered into Irvine’s ear, before he slowly started carving at it with the knife in his hand, sending Irvine into a screaming frenzy as blood ran down the side of his head, the sound of ripping at skin and cartilage mixed with Irvine’s screams and Gerard’s hysterical laughter being the only things I can hear. I turned away, trying my damndest to hold in the bile that’s building up in my stomach and emitting up to my mouth and covered my ears to block out Irvine’s blood-curdling screams. I don’t know how long it all went on. It could have been a few minutes, or even a few hours. When I finally looked back, Irvine’s ear was cut clean off his head, blood pouring out all over the floor from his bloodied head. Gerard placed the severed ear right into the glass jar, staring at it in awe like he just caught a bug.  
“Ah, yes...it’s beautiful!” he exclaimed happily, amused with his new souvenir. He set it down, keeping the lid off of it. “It needs it’s partner, though. The poor thing will get lonely in there all by itself. Now…,” Gerard’s voice shifted to a low tone, glaring eyes back on Irvine as he set the knife just above his other ear. “This...is for what you’ve done to mama…,”  
“N-no! Please, no--AAAAUUUUUGGGHH!” Irvine screamed, his other ear slowly being carved off as Gerard continued to laugh maniacally at the top of his lungs, the sounds of screaming and laughter warping together into a horrible unison of pure madness as the carnage in front of me continued to unfold. I gagged, feeling the bile in my stomach build up once again. I got down on my knees, letting the vomit release from my mouth and spill all over the floor. I just can’t hold it in anymore. I can’t take any of this anymore. I am so sick and tired and scared and I just want it all to go away. I wanna scream. I wanna cry. I wanna run away...but I can’t. My own fear is keeping me glued to where I am sitting, forcing me to keep watching. I know Gerard’s still watching me, the eyes in the back of his head watching my every move as he worked the knife through cartilage and flesh, blood pouring and splattering all over his hands.  
“Mama...we all go to hell…,” Gerard sang softly, his voice not faltering one bit despite all that’s been taking place right in front of him, all of it being done by his hands. “Mama we all go to hell...I’m writing this letter, and wishing you well...Mama, we all go to hell….,”  
Mama…?  
Wait a minute. What is he singing? It sounds just all too familiar, like I’ve seen these lyrics once before, and not that long ago. I’ve definitely seen it somewhere...but where, exactly? No, wait...I do know! It’s on the walls. It was written all over the the walls of this very place by the very same person, written in smeared black ink. It’s the same writing and ramblings that came from the madman that’s craved for revenge for so many years, and now, it’s right in his hands.  
“Oh well now mama, we’re all gonna die!” Gerard continued to sing, his voice now booming and manic. “Mama, we’re all gonna die! Stop asking me questions, I hate to see you cry! Mama, we’re all gonna die!”  
With Irvine’s second ear now cut clean off his bloodied head, Gerard placed it right into the jar with it’s fellow dismembered body part, sealing it shut with the lid and waving it in front of his victim’s face like a mother would do with a set of car keys, dangling it in front of her curious baby. Gerard smiled from ear to ear, unable to contain his laughter as his now deaf victim continued to scream and cry in hopeless despair and pain.  
“It’s true, you know,” Gerard cackled. “We’re damned after all. We all do go to hell. We all are gonna die one day...and I’d never let it happen to me until I finally get the chance to get my sweet revenge! I told myself that I’d never rest until I finally got even with the two of you, after all you’ve done to me, daddy, and mama! Now I have it! I have finally got my revenge! I know daddy and mama are watching me from up above, and they must be so pleased that I am finally getting my revenge for all that’s happened to them! Three cheers for sweet revenge! Three cheers for sweet fucking revenge! Now…,” Gerard turned to me, his eyes and smile exaggeratedly wide, like a horrifying and homicidal cartoon character. “Frankie, baby...I need your help...for act three! I need your help...for the grand finale!”  
Oh, no. Oh dear god, no. I am not ready. I am far from it. I’ll never be ready for more. This is exactly what I’ve been dreading. Gerard now wants me to actually take part in further desecrating Irvine’s near-deceased body. Gerard now wants me to literally help me kill him! I can’t, though! I still can’t move! I still can’t speak! I can’t see, either! Now, I can’t even breathe right! My own body is caving in on me once again! There’s just so much blood and pain and suffering and--  
“Baaaaaaaaaaabyyyy!” Gerard sang, calling for me. I jumped, snapping back into the horrid reality my mind has been drifting away from. He’s standing right in front of me with something large and sharp in his hand. He went and grabbed it as I was losing myself to my own anxiety and blinding fear. It appears to be a giant saw, with handle bars at each end for two people. It’s the kinds of saws that’s used to cut down large trees...and this is what Gerard chooses to finish his victim off with. Behind Gerard, Irvine continued to wail and scream and struggle within the ropes, clearly in hysterics from what’s terrible fate is yet to come upon him. “Come on, sugar pop...the show must go on!”  
No...no, no, no! It can’t go on! I can’t go on! I’ve already seen too much! You’re fucking insane, Gerard! I don’t wanna do this! I never did! I can’t help kill him! I just want it to stop! I just wanna go home! I wanna run away and disappear from all this! Please don’t make me do this, Gerard! Please, please, please! I want Irvine to suffer as much as you do, but...it’s all just...so wrong. I said I’d help you, but...but…  
No. I have to do it. I have to kill him. I know if I just sit here and delay the inevitable, Gerard will be furious with me. Irvine does deserve to die after all he’s put Gerard through, and now that he’s so close, I may as well just get it over with. If it hadn’t been for this man and all he’s done, Gerard would never need to be fixed. He wouldn’t be so damaged. He made Gerard this way. He’s the reason why he’s so sick. He’s the epitome of all his suffering...and I must help Gerard rid of it all. I did tell Gerard I would fix him, after all…  
Forcing all my might within my body, I slowly and silently stood up to my feet, walked up to the blood-soaked Gerard, and followed him over to Irvine’s restrained and flailing body. Gerard smiled warmly and sinisterly, handing me one end of the saw with the handlebar as he held the other side on his end, the sharp teeth of the saw now just inches above Irvine’s waist area.  
No, Frank. Don’t do this! This isn’t right! Let go right now! Just let go and run. Run as fast as you can and--  
“This is it, Frankie...I finally got it,” Gerard laughed, still smiling oh so gleefully despite what he’s about to do with my help. “Isn’t this great? I finally get to kill someone again! I finally get to have my sweet revenge once again! Oh, how I missed this feeling! But you know what? It’s all thanks to you, sugar! You helped me finally get it! I don’t know how I could ever repay you! I get to kill this bastard with you, Frankie...I just couldn’t ask for anything better than this! Now, on my mark, I will bring the saw down and push, and I’ll tell you when to push, that way we carve this piece of meat up nice and good. Got it?”  
No, Frank! Just stop! Don’t listen to him! He’s no good! He’s fucking crazy, and you need to run! Get out of here Frank, or you’re done for! There’s no good to come out of all of this! Just run, run, run!  
“Y-yes…,” I muttered, shaking my head. I closed my eyes shut and held onto the handle tightly, waiting for Gerard to make the first pull and give me the prompt to do the same. Irvine is still screaming, his voice hoarse and his speech far from comprehensible. I just want to get this over with, as much as my mind keeps telling me not to. I want it all to be over, and perhaps this is really the only way that’ll all happen. Gerard will rid of the body after this, where it’ll never be found, and I’ll never have to see any of this ever again. It’s like a horrid dream you just can’t wake up from, and the only way out is to let the worst happen. If only that were the case, because I know I’m not sleeping. It feels all too real. I am awake, as much as I wish not to be. “I-I’m ready…,”  
No, Frank! Stop it! No, no, nooooooo!  
Gerard yanked back on the saw, digging into the surface of Irvine’s skin of his groin area. That’s when my eyes opened wide, almost completely against my own will. The blade’s already in his skin. There’s blood seeping out from the wound in his perineum and down his legs as Irvine screeched and cried and wailed bloody murder. There really is a lot of blood...so much of it...  
Close your eyes, Frank! Don’t look! Just close your eyes! Why aren’t you closing your eyes, damn it? Stop looking, goddamnit! Stop--  
“Push, Frankie!” Gerard commanded, his voice barely hearable through Irvine’s screams. His eyes are still wide, craving for more blood. He’s waiting for me. “Come on! Don’t just stand there! Puuuuuuuuuush!”  
No, Frank! Don’t push! Just stop what you’re doing and--  
Do it, Frank! Do it! Do it, do it, do it! Keep going! Just fucking do it, Frankie!  
Still holding on to the handle of the saw with both hands, I shoved forward, digging the teeth of the saw deeper through Irvine’s groin, more blood spurting out from the open and gaping wound and onto my shirt, as well as on Gerard, who just kept smiling like the madman he is. The blood is so warm and thick. I’ve never seen so much of it, or even felt so much. I never knew blood could be so warm. I never knew anyone could scream this loud, either...  
“AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGHHHHH! AHHHH, PLEASE HELP ME GOD, HEEEEEEELLLLPPPP!!!!” Irvine cried out, unable to run away from death’s tight grip around him. “AAHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHHHHHHHH! HELP ME, GOD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”  
Gerard pushed forward again, and I pushed back. Now there’s even more blood, and it’s splattering all over us. I can hear the sound of flesh and bone being ripped apart mixed with Gerard’s laughter and Irvine’s screams. We pushed again and again, more blood protruding from Irvine as his screams became more and more gurgled and choked up. I feel so warm now having someone else’s blood all over my face and body. I’m not shaking and shivering anymore, too. I don’t feel like throwing up like I did before either. I feel...relaxed, but Irvine needs to shut up. He deserves what’s happening to him. He needs to pay for hurting and ruining Gerard. He needs to die…  
“Ahahahahahahah...AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAHHH! SWEET, SWEET REVENGE! THREE CHEERS FOR SWEET REVENGE!” Gerard exclaimed at the top of his lungs, the laughter not at all coming to a cease, blood smeared all over his face. “DIE, YOU WORTHLESS SCUM! DIE, ALREADY!!!! DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE DIE! DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE!!!!”  
Yes, Gerard! Irvine must die! There needs to be more blood shed! Bring more, more, more! Make him suffer! I love this so much, I can’t stop laughing! I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe! It’s so beautiful! Now that he’s dying, I’m getting closer to fixing you, Gee! I can fix you! I can--  
I froze, my vision being almost nothing but pure red. It’s like I completely blacked out, only to be snapped right back into reality. What is this place? Where am I? How did I--  
Oh, god...oh my god! What the fuck? What the fuck just happened? What did I let myself do?!  
Right in front of me sat Irvine’s desecrated corpse...or at least, what’s left of it. It doesn’t even look like a body, but rather a mish-mash of blood and scattered organs. Right beside it stood Gerard, who’s down on his hands and knees over the “corpse”, his whole body nearly covered to every inch of the blood that’s just been shed. He’s laughing so much that he’s visibly trembling, smearing his snow white face with more even more blood.  
“Oh, Frankie...I’ve never felt so happy in my whole fucking life! Three cheers for sweet revenge...three cheers for sweet revenge...three cheers for sweet revenge!” he hollered, his distorted voice echoing throughout the building, as well as my own messed up head.  
Oh, god...oh my god...what did I do? What the fuck did I just do? Oh no...I am a murderer! I fucking helped Gerard murder someone! The body...oh god, the body...I can’t take it. I’m gonna be sick. I think I’m gonna--  
Stumbling to the floor, everything around me began to blur as I fell to the floor. My eyes closed, the whole world surrounding me going black. The only thing I could hear is Gerard’s maniacal laughter as my consciousness slipped away, hopefully for good and forever. I don’t deserve to live after what I just did.  
I’ve gone full-out insane.  
I have turned exactly what I have feared and have tried to fix Gerard from being.  
I’ve become a monster just like him.


	25. Guilt-tripping

“Frankie, baby...wake up, my sunshine,” a familiar voice cooed as I felt a set of warm hands lightly shaking my shoulder. I sleepily opened up my eyes, only for them to be greeted by a face that a part of me has come to hate seeing, because it belongs to the face of the man that made me do such a terrible thing, and in the moment, made me love doing it.  
Gerard’s body is above mine, looking down at me with a soft smile on his pale face that now no longer has blood splattered all over it. He brushed my bangs away from my perspiring face, sending chills down my whole restless and tense body.  
“You've been out cold for a while, you poor little thing. You okay, sugar pop?”  
Am I okay? No. I'm fan-fucking-tastic, especially after all that just happened prior to me passing out. I fucking killed someone, murdered someone for fuck’s sake! I helped you kill someone in probably the most grotesque way imaginable...and for a fleeting moment within my own corrupted and messed up mind, I liked it! I fucking enjoyed it! There was a part of me deep inside of me that took pleasure in ripping Irvine to pieces and killing him! It’s like for a brief moment I was possessed by some heinous demonic being with an overwhelming desire for blood to be shed, or like I have a split fucking personality and a very dark and twisted side of me came out in that very moment, leaving my own self lost in an unconscious limbo! I am not okay, Gerard! I am a killer and a monster and a psycho just like you, and I hate myself for that! What the hell is wrong with me? I just don't get what is going wrong with me! I just don't get me at all!  
“N-no...not really,” I replied. Saying that I'm not really okay is a total understatement, though. It's not hard to see why I'm far from okay; not if anyone with a functioning brain in between their skulls knew what the hell I just put myself through in that godforsaken slaughterhouse with the psychotic nut-job that is Gerard Way. It’s not like I'm any better than him, though. I may as well be just as bad as him, if not worse. I shook my head almost violently, sending my head into an aching and spinning frenzy, then covered my pathetic and teary-eyed face with my hands, and caved in. “No Gerard, I'm not! I'm not okay! I feel awful! I am awful!”  
“Oh sugar,” Gerard sighed remorsefully, wrapping his arms around me and holding me in his deceiving embrace as I wept. “Why’s that? You’re not awful at all! You are...amazing, Frankie!”  
“No I’m not, Gerard! I did a horrible thing, and...I liked it! There was a part of me that liked it! I just couldn’t stop laughing and smiling at all the blood I saw and the screams I heard, and I feel so terrible because of it! I know you wanted Irvine dead, and I know he deserved to pay for all he’s done to you, but...oh god, I just can’t take it! There was just so much blood! I’m losing myself, Gerard! I’m going crazy! I’m sick! Someone’s gonna find Irvine’s body and we’re gonna get caught! I don’t wanna go to jail, Gerard! I don’t wanna lose my mind, either! I-”  
“Shhh, calm down, sugar,” Gerard said soothingly, running his hands through my hair as he continued to hold me. “There’s no reason to be upset, baby. I know that what we did was scary to you, but...you did the right thing. You helped me rid of one of the people that killed daddy and mama. You fixed a part of me that’s been ruined for so long because of that scumbag. And don’t be so silly, sugar pop. You don’t have to worry about the authorities finding us. They very likely don’t even know the fucker’s dead,” he snickered evilly, making me cringe as I felt his laugh send chills down my spine. “While you were passed out, I took the body and chopped it up into pieces and packed them all into black bags in a suitcase before I got everything cleaned up. I then drove out a while far from the warehouse to a bridge, and dumped the bag into the lake there. The contents of Irvine’s body are at the bottom of the lake with the fishies, nowhere to be found. No one will ever find him...I swear, no one will!”  
No, Gerard. Please don’t ever mention the body ever again! Don’t remind me of what was left of Irvine’s desecrated carcass! Don’t remind me of the mess I’ve made of it! I don’t care if it’s far from the human eye...it’s still there fresh in my memory! Oh, no...my stomach...I think I’m gonna be sick…  
Sealing my mouth shut, I dashed off the bed and to the bathroom, falling to my knees as I let the bile building up in my stomach emit from me and into the toilet. I coughed and gagged, that awful image still burned in my head. I’ll never forget exactly how badly mangled Irvine’s body looked. I remember it being so torn apart and mutilated that it looked more like a giant hunk of meat, blood, and bone rather than a human body. It’s an image I know will forever haunt me, but the worst part is that I helped Gerard create it all. After heaving up what little was in my stomach, I flushed the toilet and nearly collapsed onto the tile floor til I felt a familiar set of arms scoop me up and wipe the puke off my face and chest with a damp towel.  
“Oh, my poor, poor sugar pop…,” Gerard whispered, cradling me in his embrace like I’m a little baby. “You’re getting sick as a dog,”  
Well, I wonder why that is, Gerard! Maybe I ate something bad or I’m getting a stomach flu? Or, maybe, what if it was from what the fuck we just did prior to me passing out? Hmm, what the fuck could it just be that’s made me fall ill? I wonder…  
“Listen, Frankie...I know you’re shaken after what we did to Irvine. I know you’re scared shitless. I know how you feel, baby. Just know that you did it all for me. You’re doing exactly what you said you’d do. You’re fixing me,” Gerard leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on my cheek as he stroked my numb head. “Why don’t you go and get yourself washed up? You’ll feel better and refreshed. You gotta relax. You deserve it, sugar,”  
Oh, sure! A shower will definitely help me get over what the fuck I’ve become so traumatized from doing! A daily activity of hygiene will surely serve as a way to help me get over the thought that I fucking murdered someone! It’ll surely help get rid of the many night terrors and anxiety attacks that’s yet to come! Thanks a fucking lot, Gerard!  
Well...come to think of it...maybe a shower is a good idea. I don’t wanna stink of half-digested stomach contents when I get my ass to bed. Besides, I feel so dirty; not only from the vomit that’s all over me, but from what I let myself do with Gerard earlier, as well as the way I reacted to it. I can still feel Irvine’s blood all over me, even though I know it’s not really there anymore. I just wanna be clean right now, even though I doubt even a thousand showers will help wash the blood that’s now forever on my hands.  
“Okay,” I muttered, sitting up and getting back on my feet. “Good idea, Gerard. I will,”  
“Alright, sugar. I’ll grab you some clean jammies to change into. I’ll be getting ready for bed. We’ve gotta get up early tomorrow. We’ll be heading home,” Gerard smiled, shutting the bathroom door and leaving me alone with my own dirty, pathetic, and guilty self. I began to undress as I turned the shower on, cursing every inch of my body that was capable of doing something so heinous and vicious. I stepped into the shower under the hot and scalding water, a part of me just wishing it would just burn every layer off my disgraceful body. Maybe I’ll be clumsy yet lucky enough to slip and fall, breaking my skull and dying in an unconscious haze under the water that’ll hopefully drown me, quickening the process of dying. I’ll go out without feeling a thing. It’s not like I deserve such a painless death, though; not after what I let myself do, or even worse, the way my mind took it all in within the moment.  
It wasn’t long after I started to lather the hotel shampoo in my hair when I totally lost it. I just began to cry and sob so hard that it got to the point where I couldn’t even properly bathe, letting myself get lathered shampoo soap in my now burning and teary eyes. I’m crying so hard that I don’t think I can even stand on my own feet anymore. I just can’t stop shaking. Giving in to my own self-hatred and guilt, I collapsed to the floor, sitting all curled up in a ball in the corner of the tub as the water from the shower head continued to soak my body. I don’t believe I can even move anymore. That is just how devastated I am with myself. Maybe sooner or later I’ll pass out and end up falling asleep in the shower under the running water. It would be better than falling asleep with the sick fuck that I said I’d fix, even if it meant taking someone else’s life.  
I am stupid.  
I am naive.  
I let myself fall right into Gerard’s trap that he set out for me on that very first day.  
I really am a fucking murderer, just like him.  
I am also broken, just like him.  
_ _ _  
“Frankie, wake up! Get up, sunshine!”  
I nearly rolled right outta the bed I found myself in when I opened up my eyes, Gerard’s booming voice jolting me awake. I know I didn’t pass out here. The last thing I saw before passing out was the bathtub, where I was curled up and crying my eyes out like a kid in time out. I guess Gerard found me knocked out and took me right back to bed with him, right in the place where I decided I least wanted to wake up in. I also remember being naked, and not in this t-shirt and pajama pants that Gerard so happened to have dressed me in while I was out. I guess I surprisingly slept good last night, to say the least. If only I never had to wake up from it, let alone next to Gerard in this fucking brick of a bed…  
“Wh-what?” I mumbled, rubbing my tired eyes. “Damn it, Gerard. What time is it--”  
“C’mon, baby! Pack up your bags! We gotta leave now!” Gerard yelled, frantically pacing about the room as he half-assedly stuffed his belongings into one of his many duffel bags.  
“What’s wrong, though? Why are you so...y’know, frantic?” I asked, looking over at the bedside alarm clock and noticing that it’s not even five in the morning yet. “Jesus Christ, don’t you think it’s a little too early? It’s only four thirty--”  
“No, Frankie! We gotta leave now, before…,” Gerard paused, his already pale face white as a ghost. “...b-before...they come and find us…,”  
“What? Who’s they?”  
“The...th-the authorities, F-frankie!” Gerard hollered, his shaky voice full of genuine fear, his bloodshot hazel eyes wide with utter horror. “We gotta get outta here now! I think they know where we are, and that’s why gotta leave! They’re out to get me, Frankie! They’re gonna come take me away from you! Come on, Frank! Get your stuff and let’s go, quick!”  
Wait a minute...the authorities? Does Gerard mean to say that the police already found Irvine’s entrails at the bottom of the lake? Holy shit, that was fast...in fact, too fast to be true. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since we killed Irvine. If Gerard really placed the body at the bottom of a lake like he said he did, then I find it almost hard to believe that the police would've found it that quick. Maybe they just caught wind that the killer they’ve been looking for for years is around, and are out looking for him in this area of town? How the hell do they even know we’re here if Gerard said that they know where we’re at? Nothing’s adding up here. I think there’s something Gerard hasn’t told me, and if so, I am ironically not that shocked. There’s probably a billion things he’s been hiding from me all this time. He’s already lied to me one too many times.  
Giving in to Gerard’s frantic and sudden orders, I rushed to gather up the few things I’ve packed into my bag. After doing so, we ran out the room and downstairs to check out and take off in our rental car. The lady at the front desk in the empty lobby thankfully didn’t press much into asking us why we’re leaving so suddenly. She probably thinks that some kind of emergency or something just came up for us. I don’t think she’d ever think that the real reason why is that the police are (maybe) after the two of us. After stuffing our bags in the car and getting inside, Gerard gripped the steering wheel and zoomed out of the parking lot and onto the highway, not once looking back at the hotel we just hurriedly left as he sped probably a good twenty or thirty miles above the speed limit. I gripped on to the safety bar above my seat, holding on for my own dear fucking life, knowing it’s gonna be far more than just a bumpy ride home.  
“I...I saw their cars circling around the parking lot of the hotel earlier when I woke up. That’s when I knew that we weren’t safe anymore!” Gerard said as he huffed and puffed to catch his breath. “If we drive far and back home, then we should be safe...for now, at least. They don’t know where I actually live...and you know that’s why I’ve had to hide for so long! If I hadn’t been careful enough...I knew they would've found me already!”  
“Are you sure they were not coming straight for you, Gerard?” I asked, trying to make sense of whatever the hell this all is that Gerard is going on about. “If you saw these police cars when you woke up earlier, then wouldn’t have they come and arrested you straight away while we were packing or whatever? I don’t remember seeing any policemen at all back there,”  
“That’s because they were preparing themselves, Frankie! They were trying to hide from us!” Gerard rebutted, his shaking body starting to rock back and forth in his seat, having the resemblance of a human ticking time-bomb inches away from exploding, destroying everything in it’s way. “They were putting together a way to put me off guard. I knew that...th-they’d...th-that they would--”  
“They would what?” I cut him off, fearing where all of this could possibly be going. “What would they have done to you, Gerard? What are you talking about?”  
“Y-you mean you...d-don’t know, Frankie?” Gerard replied, looking almost completely at a loss of words like I know far less than what I already do. “Th-they...th-the authorities...they’re coming for me...th-they’ve been coming for me so that they c-could...incapacitate me…,”  
“What do you mean ‘incapacitate’ you? What do you mean?” I pressed on, just wishing Gerard would quit beating around the bush and tell me already.  
“I...I never told you, did I?”  
“Told me what?”  
“I…,” Gerard paused, looking so hopeless as his eyes continued to bulge wide with horror. “I...I never told you what the authorities wanna do to me. They don’t just wanna take me away from you, Frankie...they wanna destroy me. They’ve planned to incapacitate me by...destroying my head with needles!”  
Wait, what? Needles? What is he talking about?  
No, wait...needles...that sounds familiar…  
It’s the same thing Ray told me what Gerard was rambling about when he found him out on the streets. Ray said he was going on about police cars and people coming to stick needles in his head. It’s also gotta be the same people he was going on about in the restaurant, when he said that someone was trying to poison him...  
Oh, dear god…  
This is what he was talking about…  
“What...needles?” I asked reluctantly, already fearing what’s unfolding within Gerard. “Why needles?”  
“The authorities...th-they’d use needles...to incapacitate me from escaping and from ever being able to plan doing so! They’d do it to leave me as an empty shell, to lobotomize me! They’d take everything from me, including all my memories...especially the ones of you, Frankie! If the authorities take everything from me...I’ll have nothing left! I won’t remember anything! Not a fucking thing, not even you! This group specifically known as The Authorities...they’re not just regular police officers...they’re a special kind. They have a special ability to do what I just told you they’re capable of. They’re a group sent out by the government to look for people like me, people that have been able to run from their grip for so long. If they find me...then I’ll never see you again. I’ll be a goner, Frankie. I’ll be hopeless!”  
So this is what it all added up to--a delusion that’s only half-true. I should’ve known. The law is definitely after Gerard...but not these kind of people, because they don’t really exist. He doesn’t think the police are after him, but rather this different type of people that he thinks will steal everything from his brain. All this time he wasn’t referring to “The Authorities” as just simply the police, but as a special group sent out by the government to not only find and arrest their culprit, but to also take everything in his mind away from him…  
“B-but Gerard…,” I said, hoping in vain that I can somehow bring Gerard back to reality, despite the already slim chances of doing so. “Th-these people you say are after you...th-they’re not--”  
“W-wait!” Gerard interrupted, swinging his head back and forth from the rear-view mirror to the front, his whole body now violently shaking as much as his voice. “Th-there’s someone b-behind us...someone is...f-following us!”  
Wait a minute...  
Concerned of Gerard’s paranoid suspicions, I peeked at the side view mirror to confirm them, only to find not a single car behind us. I then turned around and looked at the back mirror to see if I’m wrong; turns out I am not at all.  
My heart nearly stopped dead in it’s tracks. There’s nobody behind us. I can’t see one car in plain sight, so that can only mean one thing…  
Gerard is hallucinating.  
“Oh my god...they’re right behind us. They’re right on our tail!” A terrified Gerard exclaimed, now speeding at full-force several miles above the marked speed limit out on the two-lane highway road. “Hold on, Frankie! We gotta lose ‘em, or else--”  
“Gerard, stop it!” I yelled, barely able to see the area around us from how fast we’re going, my body now on the edge of my seat as Gerard swerved back and forth recklessly, nearly colliding into other vehicles dozens of times. “Stop it, damn you! Slow down and stop! No one’s there! Nobody is following us! You’re just--”  
“You mean you don’t see them? How can you not? They’ve found us! They’re right fucking behind us! The Authorities are right fucking behind us!” Gerard screamed, swerving and screeching when he made a sharp turn off the road and into the opposite lane, a large white semi oncoming toward us as he sped away from his invisible enemies.  
“GERARD! STOP! STOP IT NOW!” I yelled back, feeling my vocal cords being ripped to pieces doing do. I lunged forward and gripped onto the steering wheel, turning us away from the honking semi that was only seconds away from killing us.  
“Let go, Frank! You son of a--” Gerard growled, pushing and shoving me as I gripped on to the wheel with my dear life. “Let go! Let go of the fucking wheel!”  
Now fighting with a dangerous and resistant Gerard, we swerved back and forth on and off in between lanes, nearly bumping into dozens of honking cars and constantly dodging further disaster by a hair again and again as we fought over control of the vehicle. I have to get the both of us out of here. I have to save the two of us. I have to stop Gerard from killing the both of us.  
“Did you fucking hear me, Frank? Let go! Let go!” Gerard screamed, sharply turning the wheel his way near more oncoming cars.  
“NO!” I reached out, shoving Gerard as I swerved the car away again, sending us off the road away from traffic and out in the middle of an open space, where I stomped on the brake to come to a complete screeching stop with a frantic Gerard under my hold. That was when the both of us then stopped, as if time itself just put itself on pause after what just happened. There’s nothing but silence as we eyed each other, my hands still over Gerard with his body up against the corner of his seat. His eyes are still wide, but not out of fear of people coming to get him, but out of devastation of what the hell just took place at his hands. Those eyes of his now hopefully see what he saw following behind him was all in his head that no one is really after.  
“Th-they’re gone…,” he said, a smile of false relief growing on his face. “They’re not...f-following us anymore. W-we lost them, F-frankie….We lost them!”  
“G-gerard...nobody was following us,” I choked out, my voice hoarse from all the screaming. “Nobody’s out to get you. Nobody wants to hurt you. It’s okay,”  
“B-but...how did you not see them? They were right fucking there right behind us!”  
Because they’re not real, Gerard. It’s all in your head. That’s why. If only I can tell you that, but what’s the point? You won’t believe me. Of course you won’t. You’re just too sick.  
“Gerard,” I said, itching to change the subject and take the wheel before Gerard gets us in more trouble. “Let me drive us home...please,”  
“No, it’s alright,” he shook his head. “I’ll drive--”  
“Gerard,” I said again, raising my voice as I reached for the wheel and watched Gerard shrink in his seat out of fear from how livid I must be right now. “Let…me...drive...the goddamn car, please. You’ve done enough,”  
“O-okay…,” he said shakily, giving in. Instead of getting out of the car to switch seats so that I could possibly have the opportunity to take off without him, he simply shuffled and scooched off the driver’s seat over to the passenger seat, stumbling all over the place in the process as I reluctantly did the same. Silently, I put on my seatbelt and revved the engine back up, driving back onto the long road back home with Gerard, my fellow partner in crime.  
If home is where the heart is, then my heart, along with everything else within me, is beyond fucked.  
_ _ _  
Something is not right...something is really, really not right here. Something terrible is gonna happen...  
That’s the only thing that crossed my mind the entire drive back to the car rental center and taxi ride home. It’s a horrible thought I could just never shake off for the life of me. What is it, though? What exactly is yet to happen to us? I want to know, but at the same time, I really don’t. I hope that my mind is just fucking with me and getting me all worked up over nothing. I hope I’m right about that. I better fucking be.  
“Frankie? You alright, baby?” Gerard asked, sitting next to me in the back seat of the taxi cab. I felt him squeeze my hand tightly as he looked over my face full of poorly hidden discontent. “Is something bothering you, sugar pop?”  
“I…,” I sighed, knowing that I’m doing a piss-poor job at hiding the fact that something’s wrong. “I don’t know, Gerard...I feel like...something’s gonna happen…,”  
“Hmm? Like what?” he tilted his head to the side, asking to hear more. “What do you mean?”  
“I feel like…,” I paused, trying to think long and hard about what I have a feeling will happen to us. I still can’t figure out what it is, but I do have a feeling where it’ll happen, and that place is at home with Ray, Bob, and Mikey. But what exactly will happen to us when we come home to them? Just what the hell is it? “I feel like...something’s gonna happen when we get home...something bad…,”  
“R-really?” Gerard’s eyes widened, clearly dismayed by what I just admitted to him, like the same thing’s been on his mind the whole time. That’s gotta be what it is. “Wh-what do you mean...s-sunshine? What exactly--”  
“We’re here,” a sudden yet disgruntled voice boomed, nearly making the both of us jump in our seats. It was the taxi driver who took us to our final destination that is our home, and is now waiting for the two of us to pay up, unpack our bags from the trunk, and get the hell out of his car. “Your total’s thirteen-fifty,”  
“O-okay,” Gerard stuttered, shakily pulling out his wallet as he turned to me, his eyes still wide and mortified. “Frankie, you start unloading our bags. I’ll pay,”  
Silently, I did just that, stepping out of the vehicle and opening up the trunk of the taxi, unloading one bag after another. As I did, that horrible thought continued to eat at me, taunting me. I really, really don’t know what I think is gonna happen to us, but at least I’m not crazy for acting so paranoid all of a sudden; Gerard’s thinking the same thing. He also has a feeling something's gonna happen, and it’s clear by that look on his face. Whatever it may be, it’s scaring me to fucking death. Something will happen to the two of us, especially to Gerard; something very, very bad, and I am fucking worried for him. Despite all that’s happened over the span of the last couple nights, despite him making me do something I know will haunt me for the rest of my life, despite how mad he’s gone, and despite how sick and delusional he really is, there’s a part of me that still cares for him. I don’t want anything bad to happen to Gee, to the lonely man that begged me to stay in the basement with him overnight that first day we met. I don’t want him to get hurt...and I also don’t want him taken away from me.  
I still love him.  
As me and Gerard picked up our bags and walked through the front door, that dreadful feeling rushed over me more and more with every step we took into the house. It’s very quiet in here...in fact, too quiet. It’s so awfully quiet to the point where something doesn’t feel right here at all. Where is everyone? Where’s Ray, Bob, and Mikey? Where’s all the chit-chat and ruckus I always hear when I walk through the front door of this place? There’s nothing here at all. I gulped, feeling my chest tightly constrict my rapidly beating heart. I am shaking and sweating and on the verge of an all-out mental breakdown. I need to hear something, anything! I need a sign that someone is there! I don’t care what the fuck it is, just a sign that we’re not alone in this deathly silence.  
“Hello?” I called out. “Ray? Mikey? Bob? Anyone home?”  
“F-frankie,” Gerard turned to me, his whole body visibly shaking as much as mine. “I...I think you were right. Something is very, very wrong here…,” he said, suddenly dashing down the hall and down the stairs back to his dark haven that he’s been away from, leaving me behind to wonder what exactly the hell is going on.  
“Gerard, wait!” I called out as I ran to follow him downstairs. “Wait a minute, Gerard! Wait--”  
“OH MY GOD...MY ROOM! OH MY FUCKING GOD!” he screamed, his monstrous voice twisted with devastation and fury, nearly making me stumble over the stairs and down to the floor. “WHAT DID YOU DO? WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY ROOM? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!”  
“Gerard!” I yelled back, picking up my pace as my chest pounded faster. I turned around the corner and down the hall to Gerard’s bedroom, only to find him standing among a massive pile of papers and boxes scattered all over the place, with Ray, Bob, and Mikey all standing there with him, all of them looking utterly mortified. “Hey guys, what’s going on here--”  
“I think we are the ones that should be asking you that, Gerard,” Mikey said in a confronting manner, holding out a series of old newspapers to his devastated culprit, all of them with Gerard’s old mugshot photo on the front covers.  
Trenton State Hospital Escapee, Way, on the loose

Desecrated bodies of Richardson family found, foul play suspected

Trenton State Hospital escapee, Way, suspected for murder of Richardson murders

Oh, no...oh god, no...they’ve all found out. This must’ve been why Gerard forbade anyone but me from entering his room. He’s been trying to hide his secrets from Ray, Bob, and Mikey, and they all found it. They all know what Gerard has been hiding from them for so long. They now know he’s an escapee. They know he’s a murderer. They know everything…  
“Gerard...dear god...just what have you done?” A nearly hysterical Ray cried out, being held back by a comforting Bob. “Just how many people have you killed? How many?!”  
“Frank, why don’t you explain yourself?” Mikey turned to me, eyes full of bitter accusation. “Do you know about any of this?”  
“Whoah, whoah...wait a minute!” I darted forward, bringing myself into the unnerving conflict that’s brewing. Even Lola, all curled up in a corner of her cage, looks visibly shaken from it all. I’m also shaking. I need to explain myself, but even more, I need to know just how in the hell this all happened.  
“Mikey, Ray...what’s going on here?”  
“Don’t you see, Frank? My own brother...he really is a murderer! He didn’t just kill those kids that bullied him...he’s killed others as well!” Mikey exclaimed, his skin growing a sickly pale as he told of what his brother has been guilty of doing. “All that time you guys were gone, I knew in the back of my head something was wrong. The thought that Gerard was hiding something from us was just eating at me. I knew he made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want any of us to enter his room, because he always kept his door locked, and you knew he gets pissed when someone enters his room...besides you, that is. So, I had to sneak my way in his room. I picked at the lock with a hairpin, and...I found far much than I thought I would. It turns out I wasn’t just fucking paranoid...I had the right to be afraid. Gerard has hidden so much from all of us this whole time…,”  
Me and Mikey both turned our heads, looking down at Gerard’s belongings that have been encroached upon--more newspapers, each and every one of them telling of Gerard’s crimes of escape and murder. So this is what happened. Mikey’s curiosity and paranoia got the best of him, and it led him to forbidden territory, that being the ugly truths Gerard’s been hiding from, except for me. Now that Gerard has been exposed, there’s nowhere he can hide. He’s not even safe in his own haven that’s been invaded while he was away…  
“Also, just to confirm that my brother is indeed guilty...there’s this, too…,” Mikey, who looks like he’s on the verge of being sick, reached into a box behind him, pulling out a series of glass Mason jars, all of them sealed up and containing--  
Oh, no...now I’m the one that’s gonna be sick…  
Covering my mouth, I fell to my knees and gagged as my stomach churned after my eyes laid upon something that I am not proud to say they’ve seen before. The contents of these Mason jars are more of Gerard’s “souvenirs” that he’s gathered from his victims, like what he took from Irvine when he cut off his ears. There’s a set of blue-green eyed eyeballs in one of the glass jars, two big toes in another one, and one of them even contains--yes, this is true--a set of someone’s severed testicles. I don’t fucking believe it. He’s actually done this more than once! He’s really that dedicated to treating these murders he’s committed as hunting for sport, the sick man. I don’t know how in the hell I wasn’t able to smell the decaying body parts whenever I was in Gerard’s room, but that could be why his room always stank of moth balls…  
“G-gerard…,” I choked out, feeling the blood drain from my face as the bile in my stomach built up. “Oh, my god...oh--”  
“Frank, did you…,” Ray paused, gulping as he tried his hardest not to hurl after his eyes laid upon the severed body parts in the jars. “Did you...know anything about this?”  
“A-about...about what?”  
“This!” Mikey exclaimed, his waving and exasperated hands showing off the clutter of papers and rotting body parts in front of all of us as he glared at me resentfully. “You knew damn well how close you were to Gerard...so surely, you had to know something about all this, right?”  
Oh god, what do I say? What the hell can I say? If I lie, I’d be turning my back on Gerard after all I’ve committed to him. But if I sit here and tell the truth…  
“I…,” I started, barely know where to start. “I-I--”  
“You...you son of a bitch…,” Gerard growled, eyeing his brother like he’s his next prey to pounce upon. “You motherfucker...I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” he screamed, lunging forward and tackling the light and skinny Mikey to the ground, his fists going to town on his face.  
“Mikey!” Ray and Bob yelled in unison, trying to run to a pummeled Mikey’s aid, only to be fended off by a furious Gerard that’s clearly lost it all; he’s gone fucking mad, and he doesn’t at all care who stands in his destructive path.  
“Gerard! Let go of him!” I yelled back, reaching forward to try to separate the two fighting Way brothers, Gerard’s body toppling over poor Mikey’s, whose face is now all bloodied and bruised. This needs to stop. This needs to stop now! “Guys, stop it! Stop it--”  
“Freeze!” another set of loud voices yelled, followed by the sound of the basement door being knocked down off it’s hinges. Five men came running down the stairs and into the bedroom, all of them wearing police uniforms and holding handguns out, ready to shoot.  
It’s the Authorities...and they’ve come for Gerard.  
“Get down on the ground! Get down on the ground!” one of them boomed, charging through the bedroom door to break up the physical conflict that’s taking place. “Every one of you, on the ground now!”  
It was when Gerard heard the cop’s voice that he froze, turning his head to face his enemies that have been searching for him for so long. His eyes widened with horror, knowing that he’s now cornered with a gun pointing right at him. He let go of Mikey, backing away from him and the cops defenselessly, his whole body pale and shaking, his mouth wide open in devastation.  
“N-no...they’ve come for me! They’ve found me!” he screamed, constantly stumbling to his feet as he weakly backed himself into a corner of the room. “S-stay away from me! J-just s-stay away! P-please, don’t--”  
“Get down on the ground and put your arms up in the air where we can see them!” the officer shouted back, still holding his handgun out over his cornered fugitive. Mikey got up off the ground and lunged toward Gerard, tackling him to the ground and holding him under his grip as the both fought and struggled, while Ray and Bob stood in utter shock.  
I have to do something. I have to protect Gerard. I can’t let anyone take him away from me. I still fucking love him!  
“No, Mikey! Get off of him!” I snapped, running to the Way brothers to separate them from each other and to protect the man that calls me his baby, his sugar pop, his sunshine, and says that he loves me, just like I love him. I shoved Mikey off Gerard, trying my damndest to fend him off as the mass of blue-suited men came barging in towards all of us. “Don’t you dare touch him! Don’t--”  
I fell back, feeling my arms being bound by a set of handcuffs as one of the big blue men’s bodied pinned me to the floor. I screamed, struggling as I called out for Gerard, who’s caught up in a struggle of his own against three of the other officers. He kicked and swung his fists at them, fighting for his dear life.  
“Get away from me! Get the fuck away from me--ahhh!” Gerard collapsed to the floor, holding on to his bloodied head that was just hit with the butt of one of the men’s guns. That was when they scooped him up, tackling him to the floor and cuffing him. He kicked and flailed under their grip like a fish, now completely helpless. “N-no fair! No fair, no fair, no fair!”  
“Gerard Way, you are under arrest for the murder of the Richardson family, as well as fleeing legal custody from Trenton State Hospital without authority or consent,” one of the officers said, a squirming Gerard under his strong grip. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning,”  
“No! Don’t take me away from Frankie! He needs me, and I need him! Please, don’t take my sunshine away from me, please!” Gerard pleaded as he kicked and screamed, tears starting to run from his eyes as the cops began to pull him away from us. He turned to me, those eyes of his beaming right at me. “Frankie, baby...you’re gonna be okay! I promise, I won’t let them hurt you! I won’t let anyone hurt you! I’ll never let them take--”  
“No!” I screamed, continuing to fight as I called out for the binded and arrested Gerard as they dragged him away from me. “Gerard! Gerard! Gerard!”  
“Looks like I already know, Frankie,” Mikey hissed, venom spewing from his disgusted eyes as he wiped some blood off his face. “You knew all along. You knew what Gerard has done, yet you never did anything. You tried hiding him all along. Your love for him blinded you,”  
I turned to Mikey, my mind cursing his fucking face and everything else about him. He helped the cops turn him in. He’s gotta be the one that called them in advance. Who the hell else would have done it, leading them to the very place where we all live? He found what his brother did, and decided to play the hero and turn him over to the Authorities. He helped them separate my love from me!  
“Fuck you!” I screamed at him, wanting to run to him and do the same thing Gerard did to him just minutes ago, and break those pathetic fucking glasses of his and stab his face to death with the shards. “You motherfucking son of a bitch! I’ll fucking kill you! I will fucking kill you and--”  
“Frank...I am so disappointed in you,” Mikey sighed, shaking his head. “I should have known. You’ve really changed. You didn’t fix Gerard like you said you would. He’s destroyed you,”  
I froze, his words hitting me like a freight train as the cops hauled me off to the back seat of their car. I couldn’t help but realize that he’s indeed right. I really have failed. I failed to fix Gerard. I really am just like him. I am a broken, murderous mess, just like the man I’ve failed to repair.


	26. You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

I really think I should take back what I said earlier about being better off in prison than living out in the streets. Being here behind bars is not as bad as being homeless--no, it’s worse...in fact, much worse. Sure, you have free food, shelter, and healthcare here, but none of that doesn’t even come close to making up for all the terrible things about being in this godforsaken place with a bunch of child molesters, terrorists, and serial killers. I don’t think I’ve been forced to defend myself against big-shots that wanna pick a fight with me this much (or much worse in the shower rooms. After all, everyone knows what guys do to pretty boys like me in prison). If that place is an armpit, then this prison in New Jersey is a giant shithole, filled with nothing but...well, shit. Seriously, I can’t remember how many months it’s been that I’ve been here (many though, that’s for sure), but I’m stunned that I’ve managed to not get myself killed here, considering the people I’ve been surrounded by all this time. It’s sad though, because I think I’d be better off dead than living here with dangerous sub-human scum. It’s not like I’m better than any of these people, though. After all, I’m the one that helped enable a serial killer’s plot for bloody revenge. I’m also a bloodlusting maniac just like him. I took pleasure in watching someone die. We almost killed said serial killer’s younger brother, too. I also tried protecting Gerard from the police and tried fighting them off, and because of all these acts, especially the one of helping Gerard kill and cover up the murder of Irvine Bagninski, as well as helping Gerard hide from “the Authorities” (or just the police, really), I’ve earned myself a sentence here in this rotten shithole--fifteen years in prison, with an eligibility for parole after the first four years.  
I can barely remember anything prior to me being sent to New Jersey State Prison. I can barely even remember the fucking trial. I don’t know a single thing I said, or who exactly was there; I don’t even know if my parents were there to see their heathen of a son be sentenced, their eyes full of disappointment and discontent for the failure they brought into this world. I do remember what I was convicted of of course, as well as my verdict, but I don’t know a single word I uttered when I was on the stand. I don’t remember if I saw Gerard there either. Everything was nothing but a blur to me, soon to be stored into a very deep part of my mind where I’ll never be able to find the memory to view it in it’s full details. If Gerard was there, then it would’ve been the last time I’ll ever be able to see him again. If he wasn’t, then my last memory with him would have been that horrid day he was snatched away from me, calling out my name. All this time sitting in my cell, lying in bed, I couldn’t help but think and try my damndest to remember if I saw his face at the trial. If he was there, where was he sitting? What was he wearing? How did he act? Was he angry? Scared? Sad? I’d give up anything to see if he was there in front of me or not. I’d also give up anything in the world to see his face again, even though I know that’ll never happen no matter what. It’s likely a one in a trillion chance that he’s here in this hell on earth, rotting away in his cell like me. He’s probably back in Trenton State Hospital or some other maximum security mental institution, locked away to never see the light of day ever again. Wherever he may be, I know he’s still hurting. He’s hurting because he’s still broken...and I failed my mission to fix him.

 

“Frank? Wake up, man. You’re gonna miss breakfast,” my cellmate Pete said, lightly shaking me awake. Not at all having an appetite for the bland and not-so-plentiful so-called “food” we’re all served here at this penitentiary, I shifted in my cinderblock of a bottom bunk bed away from Pete, wishing he’d just go away and let me sleep in already. It’s not like any day has been all that appealing for me to wake up to anyway. It’s just the same shit every day--wake up, eat breakfast, get beaten up by fellow inmates, each lunch, get beaten up again, almost get raped by that one creepy guy Davey that stares at me weirdly in the shower room, eat dinner, get beaten up and molested by Davey and some other perverts some more, and go to bed. Yeah, I think I’ll pass on all that. I’d rather be in bed, as uncomfortable as this sad excuse of a bed may be.  
“Leave me alone, Pete,” I mumbled, praying in the back of my mind that he’ll do as I say for once. “I’ll wake up when I want to,”  
“C’mon man,” he whined, shaking me some more. “I don’t want you to get busted again. You know the rule about meals. You have to be outta your cell for them...or it’s back to the Box for you,”  
Oh, no. Oh, fuck no. Why did you have to remind me of that, Pete? Not the Box. Anything but the fucking Box!  
Of course I should have known the consequences of failing to show up to meals. It’s the policy of this goddamn place that if an inmate doesn’t show up to the mess hall by the time meals are being passed out, it’s to the Box they go. The Box is what we all like to call it instead of solitary confinement in order to make it sound a little less scary, I guess. I dunno, that’s what everyone calls it here, really. I remember the last time I was in the Box...and my god, was it horrible. If there’s a hell, then believe me, I’ve seen it, and it comes in the form of a small padded cell that’s as dark as my past prior to coming to this fucking jailhouse (yeah, if that doesn’t sound emo enough, then what the hell does?). It’s a place that’s so dark that I think it knocks Gerard’s basement right out of the park. I can’t remember how long I was in there. Maybe a few hours? A few days? Hell, maybe even a few weeks! It’s a darkness I know I’ll never forget seeing, as much as I wish to have it wiped from my tainted memory. The only thing I could remember feeling was my own cold and shaking body that was curled up in the corner, begging for even the slightest hint of warmth. And, the only thing I remembered hearing were my own internal screams, begging to either get out of the goddamned place or fucking die already, whichever came first. I remember crying so much, begging to be held. I’ve never felt so alone and scared in my whole fucking life. It felt so much worse than being cold and alone in the streets, because at least out there, you were out in the public eye. You weren’t alone where no one could see or hear you screaming. It was all so profound that it scared me to fucking death. I just wanted someone to hold me and tell me it’s okay, that sooner or later I’d be out of this dark hell and back in the real world, as bitter as it is. Who was I begging to hold me, though? I don’t think it was just anyone. Deep down in the depths of my mind, I wanted a specific someone to hold me and to reassure me and shower me with kisses. I wanted the man that gave me a reason to keep living to be with me to fight off the crippling dark that was making me go insane. I wanted him there with me in that dark cell til the very end, and goddamnit, I still want him right here with me.  
I know for a fact I can’t afford to skip a meal again, otherwise I know damn well where I’ll be thrown into, and there’s no way in hell I wanna go back there. Damn it, Pete. You win again. I’ll wake up. I have no other choice but to do so, unless I wanna starve and lose my fucking mind again in the complete blinding darkness inside a cramped and padded cell.  
“Alright, fine,” I moaned, rubbing my tired eyes as I sat up in bed. I opened them up to see my cellmate, Pete Wentz, smiling at me in a friendly manner. I think it’s safe to say that I’m blessed to have him as a cellmate rather than some maniac that would wanna try to rape or kill me at any given moment he’s got. Pete’s a tall skinny guy that’s got styled black hair with faded red streaks in it; clearly not the murderous type like...oh, I dunno, Gerard Way, or me? He’s never really specified to me what his crimes were that landed him here, as well as his sentence, but it’s a pretty taboo thing to do to openly talk about all that in this place for some reason. I don’t really think I have a hard time seeing why that is. After all, I wouldn’t be so casual and okay with going on about how I helped my serial killer of a boyfriend kill someone.  
“How’d you sleep, man?” Pete asked.  
“Shitty, what do you think?” I said, not at all likely looking close to well-rested from the many times I’ve had to toss and turn in bed to get comfortable in my rock-hard bed. “And you?”  
“I feel ya,” Pete frowned. “Ready to go down to the mess hall? We’ll meet up with Tyler and Josh,”  
“Sure, let’s go,” I replied, standing up from my bed and taking a long stretch. Here we go, yet another day in the living hell that is New Jersey State Prison. I am not fucking thrilled at all for this. Together, Pete and I walked out of our cell and made our way downstairs to the mess hall, where more men in their orange jumpsuits gathered around the lunch line and tables to eat their hearty, manufactured breakfast. We got in line, waiting for the lunch ladies to give us our serving of “food” for the morning. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, we got to the end of the line where one of the overworked, hair-netted ladies stood, shoving my meal on a tray to me. Today it’s stale waffles, plastic scrambled eggs, and overcooked bacon.  
“Come on, Frank,” Pete called out, walking ahead of me with his tray. “I got a table for us. Tyler and Josh saved spots for us!”  
“Alright, I’m coming--”  
Wait a minute. Something feels...odd. Of course this place feels odd, though. It’s a prison, for god’s sake! But this is a new feeling, like a rush of nostalgia. It’s that same feeling I got when I met up with Ray at that bar all those months ago, and it’s as strong as ever. It’s so strong it’s making my head spin. There’s someone familiar here in this place. I can feel it. Is it true though, or am I just going crazy from all the time I’ve spent here in this godforsaken place? No. I can’t be going crazy. Someone I know is here...but who--  
“Move outta the way!” A sudden voice of a man bellowed, his big and beefy hand shoving me over and nearly making me spill my food all over the place. Already annoyed with how my shitty day is going, I looked up to see who the hell was so goddamn rude to--  
Wait a minute. I’ve seen this man before, somewhere in the news I think. He’s a really tall and big guy, almost like a giant. He’s got a long brown beard that looks like it hasn’t been kempt since Christmas...from like five years ago! He’s also got tattoos all over his arms, all of them looking like he got them done in someone’s garage rather than a professional tattoo parlor. What’s his name? I’ve seen that face, but can’t quite put my finger on the name of this asshole that just shoved me. I looked at his I.D tag on the right bosom of his jumpsuit--  
Cecil Jones.  
Oh god...it’s the other man Gerard has been looking for! He’s here in this fucking place with me. This guy is the final man on Gerard’s revenge kill list, and he’s right fucking in front of me--  
“Yoo-hoo, Frank? Earth to Frank?” Pete said suddenly, waving his hand out in front of my stunned face. “You okay, man? Looks like you spaced out,”  
“Y-yeah...sorry about that. I’m coming,” I gulped, barely able to believe what I just saw. That feeling I started to get is still inside me though, eating me alive. Cecil was not the guy that feeling was bugging me about. There’s still someone else here that I know. I know this because when I had that same feeling at the bar when I met up with Ray/Ramona, it went away almost immediately, indicating that I found that special person my mind was telling me to look out for. I still gotta look for this special guy that I know is here. I can feel his presence near me, almost like he’s in this room. Where the fuck is he, though? As the thought continued to consume me whole, Pete and I walked over to a table towards the back of the mess hall, where two quiet fellows of ours, Tyler Joseph and Josh Dunn, were waiting for us with their food trays in front of them. They both smiled and nodded, welcoming us in their company like they always do every morning.  
“Hey guys, good morning,” Pete said as we both sat down across from them, the both of them replying with a nod, not uttering a word like the usual. Something tells me that the reason they seldom speak is because of the fact that they’re pretty much like brothers always at each other’s side, and that they’re partners in crime. If what they did is the reason why they stopped talking, then I must say, what they’ve done must’ve been extremely heinous. No matter, though. At least they’re both nice enough to give us coverage from the many scumbags here that are always looking for a fight with anyone that’s unfortunate enough to fall into their vicious path. Wandering around this place alone is like suicide. You gotta travel in packs in order to survive living in this place. I learned that the hard way when I first got here. It’s a miracle I survived getting beaten to a bloody pulp.  
As I started to take a bite of my burnt bacon, that feeling from before came full-force at me, making my head throb. I dropped my food and put my hands on my head, unable to bear any of this any longer. It hurts so bad that I feel like my head’s gonna explode, the contents of my cranium splattering all over Pete, Tyler, and Josh. They all turned to me, giving me a concerned look and trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me.  
Alright, that’s it! I’ve had enough! I can’t take it anymore! Who are you? Where the fuck are you? Come out wherever you are so I can see you! Please come out and help this fucking thing in my head go away before I explode! Who are you, and where are you? Just show me already, goddamnit--  
Everything around me was put on pause when I turned around and looked over at the lone man sitting at a table in the far corner of the room. He’s sitting there with his head hanging down, not at all touching his tray. Why’s he all alone, though? Doesn’t he know that that will earn him a beating from one of the bully inmates around here. After all, many of them are too cowardly to hunt for people that are in packs. People that are alone is exactly what they prey upon. Who is this fool? I can’t see his pale face all that well through his long messy black hair--  
Wait a minute...is that...who I think it is? No, it can’t be…  
Is this the man my mind been telling me to find?  
No…  
No….Yes….  
Yes, it is...and oh, how have I missed him dearly!  
It’s Gerard!  
Oh my god...is this for real? Is Gerard, the man I love and missed so much, really right in front of me at that table? Am I fucking dreaming? I’ve gotta be. This is just all too good to be true. I thought that Gerard was gone forever, never to be seen again in the public eye, including me. I need to make sure it’s him. I need to make sure this is all really happening. My mind could be screwing with me, after all. It’s shocking what your brain will do to you when you’re in a place like this. I stood up from my seat, excusing myself as I began to walk over to the guy that might really be the man that used to call me his sugar pop, his baby, his sunshine that’s been taken away from him on that dreadful day. I am far from prepared, though. I can’t breathe right. I am shaking and sweating and I can barely utter a word.  
“G-gerard…?” I said his name quietly, walking up to next to him as he sat with his head still down. “G-gerard...is th-that y-you?”  
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge who’s trying to address him. Maybe he didn’t hear me? I hope that’s the case. I was awfully quiet that time since I can barely get myself to fucking speak. I need to let him know his sugar pop is here for him. I need to let him know his sunshine has no longer been taken away from him!  
“G-gerard...it’s me, Frankie,” I said, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his stiff shoulder, only for him to do nothing. He didn’t even budge an inch. He continued to sit there still as a statue, clearly off in his own little world with his hair still obscuring his beautiful face--  
He suddenly shot his head up, staring straight at me with his hair unveiling that face of his he’s been hiding. When I saw it, I just about lost it. That face of his has changed so much. It’s changed so much that...it’s back to way it used to be, skin all bruised and eyes vacant. It’s the same face I saw the first day I met him in that basement when he was all alone and without anyone to love, when he was so broken and hurting in his own dark world. In fact, he looks even worse than that, actually. I can see that he’s really, really abused himself in all the time we’ve been separated from each other. His hair is so much of a mess that there’s clumps that have been torn out. There’s dark circles around his sad eyes, like someone beat him up and gave him black eyes. That person that beat him up was clearly himself. It’s like he’s seen the gates of hell itself, or has been to a very, very dark place and is now left in ruins. He’s seen a darkness that stared straight back at him, sucking him into it’s depths and spitting him right out. He didn’t even smile when those hazel eyes of his met with mine, which began to water up with hot tears that I know I’ll never shed. He just stared blankly, like he had no idea who the hell is sitting in front of him…  
No. That can’t be. He remembers me! He’s gotta remember who I am! Don’t be a fucking idiot, Frank! He’s just shaken, because who the hell wouldn’t be in a place like this? Talk to him! Let him know it’s really you that just called him! Let him know that you still love him to fucking death!  
“G-gerard...it’s me, F-frankie!” I said, louder this time. “A-aren’t you gonna...s-say anything? I-I missed you...s-so much!  
Nothing. Not even a smile from him. He just continued to stare at me, looking unfazed. It’s like he really doesn’t even know who I am. But how? How the fuck could Gerard forget me? I’ve been a big part of his life, probably the biggest thing to ever happen to him, just like he was for me!  
There’s no way in hell he could forget me...it’s impossible! There just cannot be a way that Gerard could not even look at me and not know my name, and what I mean to him! He’s gotta remember me...he just has to…  
“G-gerard…,” I choked out, touching his still face as he stared at me with no expression. “D-don’t you...remember me? I’m Frankie...Frank Iero, your baby, your sunshine, your sugar pop, your…,” I stopped, caving in as my tears started to get to the best of me. I cupped my face into my hands and broke down right in front of the motionless Gerard who doesn’t remember me. It’s no use. He doesn’t fucking remember me! Something made him forget all about me, but what the fuck is it? What the hell took away all the memories of us together? That group called the Authorities that he always feared was after him to steal his memories, even though said group doesn’t really fucking exist? Seriously, what the fuck was it that did this to Gerard? I can’t take it anymore. I can’t sit here trying to refresh his memory of someone pathetic like me. It’s fucking futile! It’s--  
“Don’t cry, sugar,” a familiar voice said as someone put their hand on my shoulder. I looked up from my tear-drenched hands to find him smiling softly at me through those bruises on his face. “No tears, Frankie...my beautiful sunshine,”  
No. I was wrong. He does remember. Gerard remembers who his sunshine is! He remembers me!  
“Oh my god...Gerard!” I cupped my hands, trying my damndest to hold back the overwhelming urge to take him into my arms, due to the “no PDA” rule in this goddamn place that the officers strictly enforce. Even a hug will get you written up and possibly sent to the Box. I don’t care, though. I wouldn’t mind going back there if Gerard was with me. At least we’d be together. At least he’d be there to chase the demons in my head away, just like I’ve done for him. Fully surrendering to my tears, I sat there and bawled my eyes out as I sat in front of Gerard, not at all caring that I must look like a big cry baby right now. “Oh, Gerard...I missed you so much! I thought I’d never see you again!”  
Staying silent, the smile on Gerard’s face quickly vanished, only to turn to a look of utter shock, like he just witnessed the end of the world. His grip on my shoulder tightened, his nails digging into my skin through the fibers of my shirt. His eyes stayed focused away from me, looking up at someone...or perhaps, no one at all…  
“Frankie,” he whispered, his lips quivering. “I...I found him…,”  
“Who?” I asked, looking deep into his deeply disturbed eyes. “Who did you--”  
“The second man...that...th-that k-killed…,” he paused, his breaths growing tumultuous and full of panic. “D-daddy...and...m-mama,”  
Oh, no...I should have known. Of course he found him, because I did too! Why didn’t you catch on to this earlier, Frank? You’re such an idiot! A complete fucking idiot--  
“I found him...I finally found him again!” he suddenly said, nearly shouting and smiling in dark, malevolent joy and almost not at all caring who’s in his range of hearing, not even the officers watching over all the prisoners that are below them, like shepherds herding their sheep. “I won’t let him get away this time! I will finally fully achieve my revenge...I will kill him!”  
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, barely able to believe what I just heard him say. Gerard actually has tried to kill Cecil once before...and not manage to get himself killed, knowing how much of a giant the guy is compared to five foot nine Gerard? How the hell did all of that really happen? What made Gerard fail his mission to kill Cecil? “Wh-what...what do you mean, Gerard?”  
“I...I tried to kill him before,” Gerard said with possibly, and ironically, the biggest smile on his face. “I found him, and tried to strangle the son of a bitch...but I underestimated how strong he was, the bastard…,” he paused, the smile on his face quickly changing to clenched teeth and glaring, furious eyes. “I didn’t kill him that time. The fucking cops separated us before I could choke the cunt, and...they...they…,”  
Gerard stopped again, the anger on his face turning to a look of utter anguish and fear, his eyes wide and bulging and his lips quivering again. It really is like he’s just been through the fiery gates of hell and back, or a very dark place…and I think I know exactly what that place is, where you’re trapped with nothing but your own disintegrating, insane mind.  
“They did what?” I asked. “What did they do to you?”  
“Th-they...t-took me to…,” he gulped. “A v-very dark p-place called...th-the Box,”  
I felt my heart skip a beat, as well as my chest constrict. Somehow I knew in the back of my mind he was sent there. There’s nothing in this place that’s as dark and foul as the Box. That’s where Gerard was sent after he was caught trying to kill another inmate...and it’s also where he was left with nothing but his own corrupted, sick mind that always seems to slip away from him. It’s a blessing that Gerard didn’t get killed fighting Cecil...but him being sent to the Box is a fate that’s almost just as devastating. My own mind can just envision poor Gerard sitting there all alone in that abysmally dark padded room, screaming and crying and fighting with the voices in his head as he hurts his precious self, begging for it all to go away. That’s where Gerard was all this time when he was sent here. That is why I haven’t seen him all this time. He was locked up in a very terrible place, probably for a very, very long time…  
“Oh my god...they did?” I said, still barely able to grasp the fact that someone as fragile and precious as Gerard was sent to a place so dark and unforgiving. “How long were you there?”  
“I don’t know, Frankie. I’ve lost track of time there. I was only here for a few days til I ended up in the Box. I was sent out just a few days ago. I never wanna go back there...I’ve never seen anything so fucking dark, and…,” he stopped, his already wide eyes now nearly bulging outta their sockets. “The voices...they wouldn’t leave me alone! They would never stop screaming and laughing at me until I was finally let out of the Box! I never wanna go back there, Frankie! I just wanna be with you, baby…,”  
“I know, Gerard. I do too. I’m happy you’re finally out,” I smiled, trying to comfort the shaken and traumatized Gerard. “I missed you so much. I felt so fucking alone when I was in the Box, too. I never thought I’d be able to get out. I just begged and cried to be with you, and hold me and fight off the darkness...but here we are, Gee. We’re together again. We’re free to be together again...okay, maybe not free, but we’re still together--”  
“No, Frankie,” Gerard cut me off, shaking his head woefully. “That’s where you’re wrong,”  
“Wh-what?” I gasped, both confused and shocked by what the fuck Gerard just said. “What do you mean--”  
Gerard stopped me again mid-sentence, putting his hand back on my shoulder. He slowly leaned in close to me, his skin making contact with mine as his lips passed mine made their way to my ear, opening up his mouth again to tell me something.  
“Frankie...you need to come with me. I need to show you something,” he whispered.  
“Where?”  
“Away from here. We need to hide, where no one can see us...but not too far away from...him,” he said, his voice venomous at the mention of his final enemy that he made an oath to hunt down. He grabbed harder at my arm, ordering me to follow along with him and his unspoken orders. “Come on, let’s go--”  
“Wait!” I shoved back, my whole self shuddering at the thought of us leaving unattended, only to lead to us getting caught and sent back to the Box. “We can’t just leave. Do you know how much trouble we’ll get in--”  
“Shhh,” Gerard hissed, cutting me off yet again. “Just do as I say and follow me. We will not get caught, I swear. I’ve already done this a handful of times with no problem. I need to show you, and it can’t be seen here. Just please...come with me,”  
I guess I really have no choice. I do wanna be with him, and there’s a part of me in my own messed up mind that’s curious to know what Gerard wants to show me. But why does it gotta be close to where Cecil is? I can only hope he’s not planning to do what I think he is, because if that’s unfortunately the case, something tells me it’ll not end well at all. I just wanna be with Gerard, and I want him to be safe, but...I’ve gotta go with him, but if this ends up getting us sent back to the Box...then I guess it’s both our faults, and I was undoubtedly asking for it. Giving in, I got up from my seat and followed Gerard as we snuck away from the officers watching over the sea of prisoners at the tables. Lucky for us (sort of), a fight broke out between a couple of the men, keeping the officers occupied. I dunno, I think it was some fight over waffles, based off what bits and pieces of the argument I heard before it turned into an all-out brawl. I just hope Pete and the others are okay. After escaping from the fight that started to ensue in the mess hall we ran down the hall together and snuck into the janitor’s closet, which was conveniently unlocked. After getting ourselves into the claustrophobically small room that stank of Pine-Sol, I looked up at Gerard, seeing an odd mixture of joy and discontent on his face. He’s not...well, sad or anything. If anything, he looks quite happy...but also scared.  
“What is it, Gerard?” I asked. “What did you wanna show me?”  
“Here,” Gerard replied, pulling a sharp blade that looks crudely constructed from the materials of someone’s cell. “I made this when I got out of the Box. Done this before when I was in the hospital back in Trenton. This right here helped me escape and bypass a few attendees…,” he paused, a smile of uneasiness and bloodlust slowly growing on his face, his mind losing itself to sheer insanity and malice once again. “I’m gonna use this...to kill him! I’m gonna make sure I accomplish my mission this time. After I finally kill that son of a bitch...it’ll be all over. I won’t be broken anymore! I’ll have my sweet revenge after all these years, Frankie! Daddy and mama will be so happy with me! I’ll be fixed again!”  
Oh, no...he really is doing exactly what I don’t want him to do. Gerard is gonna fight Cecil again...and risk getting killed. I can’t let him do this. I don’t care about Gerard’s infatuation for revenge. I care about his safety more than anything. He just can’t throw his life away like this. I need to stop him.  
“N-no, Gerard,” I shook my head, my hand tightly grabbing his with the knife, clutching it as I felt my eyes tear up. “You can’t do this. It’s too dangerous. You...you’re gonna get yourself hurt. You could get killed!” Surrendering to my tears yet again, and far from the last time I ever will, I broke down, unable to stop myself from sobbing and crying for my Gee to stay with me.  
“Frankie...sugar, don’t cry!” Gerard gasped, as if he had absolutely no idea what he did to upset me. “You should be happy for me! This is what I’ve wanted for so many years! You should be happy I finally get my sweet revenge--”  
“I don’t care about that anymore!” I screamed, my voice hoarse choked back by tears. “I care about you, Gerard! You’re suicidal if you’re gonna go out there and try to kill a giant brute like Cecil. He’ll destroy you, Gerard...and I don’t want that to happen to you. I don’t wanna lose you again...because if you do this, I’ll lose you forever! You’ll be gone for good, as good as dead! I wanna be with you, Gerard! I don’t want you to go. I can’t go on without you. I care more about you than your revenge...I fucking love you!”  
Breaking down, I buried my face into Gerard’s chest, crying and sobbing and screaming for him to not go. I never want him to let go, just like I know I never will with him. He means my whole life to me. He means the whole world to me...and if he were to die, then what of my world will be left? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.  
“Frankie…,” Gerard whispered, his body left completely shaken and motionless from what I just confessed to him. He looks so stunned, his eyes wide and already pale skin a ghostly white. Maybe, just maybe, I was able to convince and stop him from the foolish thing he wants to do. Maybe this time I was able to save him. Maybe we really can be together.  
“Gerard...I love you so much,” I cried, holding on tight to him as I kept my face buried in him. “I never want you to be taken away from me. I don’t want you gone…,”  
“Frankie, sugar pop...don’t cry. I’m here,” he said, holding onto me tight and running a hand through my hair, brushing my bangs away from my tear-drenched face.  
“Are you...are you sure?” I asked. Gerard didn’t reply, though. He just kept holding on to me as he opened up his mouth again.  
“We’ll say goodbye today, and I’m sorry how it ends this way. If you promise not to cry…,” he sang, wiping a tear from my eyes as I continued to do just what he told me not to do. “Then I’ll tell you just what I would say. If I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep, never let them take the light behind your eyes. I’ll fail and lose this fight, never fade in the dark, just remember you will always burn as bright…,”  
Wait...that song! How could I forget that beautiful song he wrote just for me? It’s a song he sang to me when I was in my darkest times with him, just like now...and in it, he’s saying goodbye to me now. There really is no convincing him, is there? He’s gonna fight Cecil. He’s gonna die...and he’s taking Cecil Jones with him. Now I know what Gerard meant when he said he’ll one day “lose this fight”. He’ll one day die getting the number one thing he’s wanted almost all his life--vengeance. He’s finally gonna get his sweet revenge...and die a happy man that’s still broken, but not in his mad, lightless eyes. In the end, he’ll still be the same. I really have failed. All I can really do now is surrender, and let the tragedy within this sick man that I love dearly unfold.  
“Gerard, please...don’t go,” I sobbed, still holding on to him tight for the life of me. I’m not only crying from the beauty of his voice, but of the fact that I’m soon to forever lose Gerard, the man that gave me a million reasons to not be afraid to keep on living. “I’ve lost you once before...and I don’t wanna lose you again! Please! Ple--,”  
“Frankie, you never will. You’ll never be without me, even in the end. I swear, ” Gerard sighed, cupping my chin into his hands as he brought my face up to his, which is raw with tears. “There’s something I want you to have...and I don’t want you to open it...until I’m gone,”  
“What...what is it?” I asked.  
“You’ll soon see, when the time comes,” Gerard said, reaching into the shirt pocket of his orange jumpsuit and pulling out a piece of paper with my name written on it in pen, the handwriting messy. “You promise me you won’t open this up til I’m gone, Frankie? Please tell me promise, sugar,”  
Go on, Frankie. Say yes, and take the fucking note. There’s no use fighting it. Gerard will not change his mind. You have failed, Frank. There’s nothing more you can do. Just take the letter...you failure.  
Silently, I did just that, taking the note out of Gerard hands and putting it into my pocket, knowing that I’ll protect it with my life...unlike what I was able to do for Gerard himself. I looked up at him, the both of our eyes wet with tears. I can see in those eyes of his that he wants to stay with me. I can see that there’s a part of him deep down that’s begging him to not go. I can see that deep down, he’s fucking scared...and there’s nothing that no one can do to stop him.  
“Goodbye, Frankie…,” he said quietly, leaning forward and kissing me on the lips, the both of ours warm up against each other’s That’s when I took him in, grabbing on to him and holding on to him tight one last time as our lips kissed again and again...for the very last time.  
“Goodbye, Gerard...I love you,” I whispered under my lips as they collided with Gerard’s one final time.  
“I love you, too...sugar pop,”  
We let go of each other, our bodies growing further away from each other as Gerard walked out of the closet, our eyes meeting each other’s again and again. It was when I saw him walk away around the corner and back to the mess hall that I moved from where I was previously standing, following behind him at a distance to make sure he didn’t see that I was doing just that.  
Wait a minute...Frank, what are you doing?  
Don’t let him go, Frank. You can still save him. There’s still time left! Don’t you love him, Frank? If you really do...then save him!  
I cannot let him leave me just now. I need to make sure he’s okay. I am far from through with him. Maybe, just maybe, something will change. Maybe Gerard will change his mind last minute. Maybe I can help with that. I need to fight for him to come back to me. I was a fool to let him go like that, because doing that will only end to his eternal downfall. I need to bring him back to me. I need him to be okay!  
“Gerard!” I called out as I saw Gerard walk right into the chaos of the fights that are still taking place with the many officers and prisoners, Cecil’s giant body being amongst one of them, as well as Pete, Tyler, and Josh.. He stopped, turning around to look at me with his body only inches away from conflict, his eyes wide with surprise. He smiled warmly at me despite all that’s taking place around him, leaving me behind as he looked over at his giant target and ran right in, shoving past other prisoners and leaping right on to Cecil’s body as he pulled out his shank. That’s when I began to scream, begging Gerard to stop and come back to me.  
“Gerard! Gerard! Stop it, Gerard! Come back!”  
Not hearing my screams, Gerard and Cecil continued to fight, exchanging punches and kicks as Gerard clung onto Cecil’s body like a dying twig clinging with it’s life onto a branch, his face getting bludgeoned with Cecil’s fists again and again. Gerard roared, slicing at Cecil’s skin again and again as he struggled to hit a vital point to kill his prey.  
“DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!” he screamed, going to town with the knife in his hand, hacking away at Cecil. “FUCKING DIE, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! DIE--”  
Cecil swung around violently, making Gerard lose his balance as his huge blood-stained fist punched him right in the face, sending him to the floor. Gerard landed right on his head face-down, his body limp and still like a ragdoll.  
Oh, no...Gerard! Oh no, no, no!  
“NO! GERARD, NO! NOOOOOO!” I screamed, much louder this time as I found myself running right in the crowd of fighting prisoners. I pushed and shoved, getting knocked around, punched, kicked, shoved, and even bit at. I screamed again, using my full force within my enraged body to fend off everyone trying to attack me. I can’t find Gerard. He’s lost in the sea of orange-suited inmates that just won’t stop fighting, despite the efforts of the officers to stop them. I need to save Gerard. I need to bring him out of this mess. I need to fix him--  
I stumbled to the floor, feeling someone’s fist meeting with the side of my head violently. Now my vision’s blurry. I can barely sit up. I can’t even feel my own body! I can’t move! Who the hell just punched me? Who did this to me? Whoever it is is gonna pay, especially if it’s--  
“Hah...poor little fag can’t save his boyfriend, huh?” A sudden cackled, taunting me. It’s the voice of a man...a very nasty, vile man that hurt Gerard. I looked up at Cecil, seeing the shit-eating grin on his face as he glared at me maliciously. “Pathetic, the both of you…,”  
You...you son of a bitch….You’re gonna pay for that….I am not pathetic, and neither is Gerard. He is my savior. He is my sunshine...and you can’t take that away from me, because I love him too much to let that happen...  
“FUCK YOU!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, swinging my fist hard at Cecil’s ugly face, my hand feeling like the bones in it are breaking from the hard impact. I need to see his blood shed. I need to see Cecil die. I never thought I’d say that anyone after what I saw what happened to Irvine, but...not now. Cecil hurt Gerard. He needs to pay for what he’s done to my baby, my sugar pop, my sunshine. I saw Cecil collapse, his big body falling down to the hard tile floor, just like he deserved. “Die, you son of a bitch--  
“Revenge!” another voice yelled, a very familiar voice that I’ve heard say that word far too many times…  
It’s Gerard!  
All bloodied and bruised, Gerard ran to the fallen Cecil with his shank in his hand, smiling at me as he passed by my beaten up body that can barely stand on his own two feet. I can see him stumbling, his hand clenching onto a bloody wound on his chest. He looks so weak and hurt. He’s been through hell, and it’s still far from over for him. I saw Gerard grab Cecil by his head, yanking his hair up to expose his neck as he struggled to be freed.  
“Three cheers...for sweet revenge!” Gerard exclaimed, bringing the blade to Cecil’s neck and slicing him open like a cow in a slaughterhouse, blood spurting and spraying all over the place as Cecil screamed and gurgled before he finally croaked, dropping to the floor. It didn’t stop there. Gerard screamed in victory, digging the knife into his fallen enemy’s neck again and again, taking pleasure in the act. People around him cheered as others were hauled away by the officers, soon to be the two of us. Gerard huffed and puffed, his exhausted self looking up at me with absent eyes.  
Yes...Gerard is alive! He made it! He pulled through! Now we can be together again! It wasn’t the end after all, was it?  
“Gerard!” I yelled, running up to him. “Oh my god, Gerard...you’re alive! You’re gonna be okay! You’re--”  
“Frankie...I lo--”  
Gerard fell forward as he smiled at me one last time, his body collapsing right into my arms as I ran up to him. I gasped, gently bringing him down with me to the floor as I cradled him in my embrace. Poor Gee. I know he’s been through a lot. He needs plenty of rest. He--  
I gasped, feeling warm blood soak my hands and shirt...and plenty of it, all of it coming from the wound on Gerard’s chest. He was stabbed right in the chest...multiple times. He gagged and heaved, coughing up blood all over my face as he weakly looked up at me with those hurt and lost hazel eyes that slowly began to close…  
Oh, no….no, no, no! This can’t happen!  
“Gerard, wake up!” I yelled at him, trying my damndest to shake him awake, only to be responded with nothing from Gerard, whose body has gone limp and cold as I held on to his hand with my dear life. “Wake up, baby! It’s okay, baby. Frankie’s here! Take my fucking hand and--”  
“Get off him, Iero,” an officer called out, a young heavy-set guy with a set of glasses and blonde-brown hair whose nametag read P. Stump on it. “Let go of him, Iero…please,”  
“No!” I spat, holding Gerard’s body closer to mine as I backed away from Stump. “Leave us alone! He’s hurt! He needs help--”  
“Iero…,” Stump said, frowning with genuine remorse. “Let him go, Iero. He’s gone…,”  
No...that’s not true. He’s not gone. He can’t be. Gerard can’t be dead. He killed Cecil. He fucking survived! He can’t leave me now. Gerard is not dead!  
“Liar!” I shouted, getting my to my feet as I tried to bring Gerard with me, the weight of his body weighing me down. “Come on, Gerard. I’m gonna get you to a medic. Let’s get outta here--,”  
“Put the inmate down now, Iero!” Stump commanded as he charged at me, a group of fellow officers joining him. One of them shoved me away from Gerard as Stump grabbed me, separating me from the man I need to save. I kicked and shoved and screamed, begging them to let us go. They gotta let us go. They need to leave us alone! They can’t do this to us!  
“Let go of me!” I screamed. “Get your hands off Gerard! Let go of him! He needs me! Please!”  
“No, Iero,” Stump said, that look of remorse still clear on his face as I struggled under his strong grip. A group of medics surrounded Gerard, rushing to tend to his wounds, blood soaking nearly every inch of his orange jumpsuit. “Look at him, Frank...It’s futile. He’s gone,”  
“There’s no pulse,” a female medic said, looking up from Gerard’s still body. “We’ve lost him,”  
“Alright, Melanie. Let’s take him--”  
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I cried out, struggling harder in Stump’s hold as he and some other officers hauled me away from my fallen love that is Gerard Way. “YOU’RE LYING! HE’S NOT DEAD! GERARD’S NOT DEAD!”  
“It’s okay, Frank...he’s in a better place now,” Stump said. “We’re sorry…,”  
“GERARD!” I screamed one last time as Stump and the others started to drag me off into a very dark place that I’ve seen before...and I’m going there without Gerard.  
_ _ _  
I don’t know how long I’ve been here in the dark. I haven’t eaten in so long since the moldy pieces bologna I’m always given are always inedible. I haven’t showered in a while since there’s no place to do that; all that’s here is a toilet and sink. I haven’t slept for the longest time since the floor is really not the most comfortable place to do so. I also haven’t slept because it’s not just dark in here; it’s a haunting dark that stares right back at me with it’s abysmal eyes. But the darkness of the Box is not the only reason why I’ve been such a mess. There’s an even bigger reason why I’m such a human wreckage.  
Gerard is dead...and I couldn’t save him.  
It’s all my fucking fault he died, because I couldn’t stop him from fighting Cecil. I am so alone without Gerard, and I know I always will be. No more will he be there to take me into his arms and comfort me when I’m scared, like I am now. No more will he give me the courage to keep fighting against the enemy that is life itself. I just wanna die now. I know I’ll never get out of this godforsaken prison, so I might as well just die in it already. The one man that meant the whole world to me is now gone, forever broken because I couldn’t fix him. I seriously have tried whatever I could to kill myself, but there isn’t much you can think of to do to end your life when you’re in a padded cell with only a waterless toilet and sink. I guess I could starve myself since I haven't eaten much lately, if not anything at all. After all, I couldn’t eat the moldy bologna I’m given on a daily basis without throwing it back up. It’ll be a very slow and painful death, but that is what I do deserve for failing to save my love, right? I do deserve to cry myself to sleep every night, knowing that nightmares of seeing him die over and over again are awaiting for me. I do deserve to cry and cower in fear, knowing that I’m soon to see something terrifying in this darkness that I should know in the back of my mind isn’t real...and I deserve to go through it all without Gerard. I know he deserved better than me. He deserved someone that would protect him and not let him die, like what I did. He deserved someone that would love him to no end and care for him immensely. He deserved nothing but the best, unlike me. I can still see his beautiful face so clearly--pale skin, forest-like hazel eyes, long raven black hair, and possibly the most gorgeous and genuine smile anyone could ever have...and now, all of it is nothing but a memory, his whole self gone forever, no thanks to a worthless fuck named--  
“Frank Iero?” a familiar voice, one of an officer, called out. The man with that voice opened up the door, the rays of light hitting me and my eyesight like a freight train, nearly blinding me in the process from how long I’ve been deprived of such an element. “Come on out. You’re free,”  
Wait, what? No way. There’s no way I can be let out. Not after what I let myself do to Gerard. Do you not know what I did? I don’t deserve anything but to rot in this cell, never again to see the blinding light of day. Just leave me alone--  
“Frank?” Stump called out again, stepping into the cell as I rubbed my eyes from the blinding light he came from. “You can come out now. Lunch will be ready soon, so you can have it in the mess hall You’ve also got a phonecall,”  
A phonecall? For me? And lunch too? Oh, Stump...you’re too kind, unlike the power-hungry assholes with a chip on their shoulders! I don’t deserve any of that, though. Don’t you already know that? You were there when Gerard died. For a police officer, you should know better than that! I am genuinely curious, though...who’s calling me? I wouldn’t call me though, even if it crossed my mind. Who would call up a sad excuse of a person like me anyway?  
“Who called?” I asked reluctantly, my curiosity getting the best of me.  
“A guy by the name of...hold on, let me see,” Stump said, adjusting the thin-frame glasses on his face as he tried to read whatever it is that’s written down on the piece of paper in his hand. “Ramona...Toro? Ramona Toro. He--or, ah...she said it’s urgent,”  
Ray? Ramona? Ray fucking Toro is calling me? Did he not get the news of what happened to Gerard? If he did, why in the hell would he wanna talk to me, let alone about anything “urgent”? Maybe he just wants to call me up to let me know about how much of a scumbag I am for what I’ve done. Maybe that’s why it requires my immediate attention. I will say, I do miss the guy. I guess I could reconnect with a former friend from high school. It shouldn’t hurt to do so. I’ll also have to ask about Bob. I don’t care for Mikey, though. He can rot in hell, for all I care. I’ll sure as hell see him there.  
“Well, Frank...you wanna talk to him or not?” Stump asked.  
“Yes, please,” I said before Stump could have possibly had the chance to change his mind about letting me out. I stood up and walked out, my mind saying goodbye to the Box and the darkness of it...for now. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen light. Maybe I should ask Stump the nice cop. Maybe five years? Maybe ten or twelve? My bet is on ten fucking years I’ve been in that fucking cell. “Hey Stump, got a question for you,”  
“You can just call me Patrick, y’know,” he laughed. “What’s up?”  
“Oh, ah...Patrick, sorry...I was just wondering, how long was I in there?”  
“You really wanna know?” Patrick said, the laughs gone within the blink of an eye.  
“Yes, I do,”  
“Frank…,” he sighed. “You were in there for four months. I am assuming you’ve learned your lesson now, right?”  
You’re goddamn right I have, Patrick. It still blows my mind that you’re still letting me out of the Box, though. Just because I learned my lesson doesn’t mean I deserve to be let out. Was John Wayne Gacy and Richard Chase let out of prison after they learned that killing was bad? No, of course not.  
“Yes, I have,”  
“Alright, good. Here,” Patrick said, handing me the telephone when we headed to the phone booths. “You’ve got fifteen minutes, Frank,”  
“Thanks,” I replied, quietly bringing the phone to my ear to talk to Ray/Ramona for the first time in months. “Hello?”  
“Frank...Gerard is still alive”


	27. The Light Behind Your Eyes

I nearly dropped the telephone out of my hands after hearing what the hell Ray just said. Gerard is still alive? How is that even humanly possible? I watched him die right in front of me, and so did Patrick and that EMT Melanie. He was fucking stabbed right in the chest more than once, probably from some other inmate’s shank, or even his own.. He also took some pretty significant damage to the head. How the hell can anyone survive all that? If Gerard did...then my god, is that a miracle. But miracle or not, I know one thing’s for sure--I have got to see Gerard. I need to be with him again. I need to make sure he’s okay.  
“Are you serious?” I asked Ray, still barely able to grasp what just came out of Ray’s mouth.  
“Dead serious, Frank. I’m calling because, well...there’s some things I gotta ask you,”  
Wait a second. If Gerard survived being fucking stabbed in the heart...it’s been four months since that’s happened. Why only now am I being told this? I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been locked up in a cell for so long. You don’t get told anything until you’re released. All my friends and family could have died, and I wouldn’t have been able to learn of that until I was finally let out of the Box. I really wish someone could have told me at least something about Gerard not being dead much earlier. It could’ve spared me a lot of mental breakdowns and nightmares. I guess it’s better late than never, though. I just hope that he’s okay...he’s got to be…  
“What do you wanna ask me?” I said, now wanting to jerk every ounce of information Ray could possibly give me. “Because there’s a lot of questions I’ve got too,”  
“I understand, but...let me do the asking first, Frank,” Ray sighed. There’s something off about him. I know Ray as being a pretty happy-go-lucky guy...but not here. It’s like there’s something horribly wrong...but I hope to god it has nothing to do with Gerard; god forbid it does. “First off, and probably the easiest...do you want to see him?”  
“Yes! Yes, I do!” I exclaimed probably a little too loud, seeing that the officer monitoring our calls just shushed me. I quickly apologized to him, not wanting to be cut off from my call with Ray far too early. “I’ve gotta see Gerard again. Where is he? Please tell me he’s okay,”  
“Well, Frank...he…,” Ray paused, sighing again deeply. I can tell by the somberness in his voice that there really is something wrong, much to my dismay. “He’s in the hospital right now. He’s been there ever since...well, you know what happened. I think he wants to see you,”  
Wait a minute...Ray “thinks” that Gerard wants to see me? How can someone “think” that someone wants me to visit them in the hospital? Couldn’t Gerard have just said yes or no? What the fuck did Ray do, read his mind?  
“Alright...because I wanna see him. I need to! But how can I do that when I’m stuck here?”  
“That leads me to my next question, Frank. Do you think you can get a pass to leave the prison on compassionate grounds to visit Gerard?”  
That is something to consider. I assume I can only leave this godforsaken place if my behavior’s been good in their books...which is likely far from there, considering I’ve just been released from this place’s equivalent of time-out. It’s gotta be unlikely they’ll let a troublemaker like me go visit my boyfriend in the hospital...but it doesn’t hurt to ask. First thing I’m gonna do when I hang up is ask officer Stump if it’s possible to visit Gerard...on compassionate grounds. Patrick is pretty much the only “nice cop” in this place after all, unlike all the others that are so hellbent on ruling over us inmates with their status of power and authority.  
“I’ll have to see about that. I’ll ask if that’s possible. I mean...I did just get out of the B-- oh, wait...solitary confinement,” I said, correcting myself. Ray will have no idea what I mean by referring solitary confinement as “the Box”. He’ll have no idea what I’m talking about, the lucky bastard. “I know a cop here that’s really chill and cool with me. I’ll ask him,”  
“Okay, please do,” Ray laughed dryly. “By the way...what did you do to get in confinement? How long were you in there?”  
“Long story short…Gerard and I got into a brawl with some guy, which is what resulted in…well, you know what happened to him. I actually just got out today,”  
“Seriously?” Ray asked, raising his voice a bit in surprise. “That was over four months ago that happened….Jesus, Frank…,”  
“I know. I guess you could say I learned my lesson…,”  
Wait a minute…  
Something feels off here. Didn’t Ray already know about me being sent straight to the Box--or no, “solitary confinement” right after what happened to Gerard? Has he ever tried to get hold of me while I was in there? Surely he would have if Gerard wanted to see me, right? Ray wouldn’t wait a long time to finally call me about the matter. Ray’s not the kind of guy to beat around the bush like that. I know him all too well, almost as well as Gerard. It’d be the right thing to do in the situation to get ahold of me asap.  
“Hey Ray,” I said. “Did you ever try to call me, like...right after what happened to Gerard, like after he was sent to the hospital and all?”  
Silence. Not even a yes or a no. It seems like there’s something else going on the line, based on the chit-chat I can hear going on the background. Who’s there with him? Gerard maybe? I hope so. I need to talk to him.  
“Oh, sorry about that, Frank,” Ray finally said, sounding a bit...uneasy, should I say? It’s like he doesn’t know what to say, like he’s on the stage for some play in front of a big crowd and he just forgot his lines. “Yeah...I did. Plenty of times. The receptionist wouldn’t even tell me why I couldn’t talk to you. But it’s good I finally got hold you, right?”  
“Yeah, it is,”  
“Alright then, one last question…,” Ray paused, returning back to his unfamiliar, serious self. “And I want you to answer me honestly on this one,”  
“What?”  
“Do you...really want to see him?”  
“Yes! Of course I do!” I exclaimed, only to be shushed again by the annoyed cop near me monitoring my call. Seriously, what kind of question is that for Ray to ask someone like me? Gerard means literally the whole world to me. Of course I wanna visit him! Hell, I wanna talk to him on the phone too. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to finally hear from me after all this time, because I’m sure as hell am. After all, I just learned of him not being fucking dead! “I am positive I wanna see Gerard. Is he there? You guys at the hospital now?”  
“Yeah, but--”  
“Let me talk to him, then!”  
A sudden noise erupted on the other line, one that doesn’t sound all too pleasant at all--it’s someone yelling, like they’re crying out in agony. It made me jump a little hearing it, so much that I nearly dropped the phone outta my hands again, being the clutz I am. That’s how loud it was. There’s also a commotion going on too, like arguing between a few guys. I can only hope that the guys are alright, especially Gerard. I hope that it’s not Gerard that’s the guys that’s crying out in pain.  
“Ray? You there?” I asked, feeling my heart race a bit.  
“Yeah, sorry. Can’t talk now. Gotta go. Call me when you have an answer about seeing--”  
The line cut off, leaving me with an empty line, the long sustained beep ringing in my ears and my mind. I left the telephone booth, knowing that my fifteen minutes have gotta be up. It’s kinda pointless to call back Ray right this minute anyway. He must have his hands tied down with the incident involving Gerard. I just hope to god, or whatever other superior being that’s up in the sky, that Gerard is okay. I need to see him. I need to make sure the man I love to death is o-fucking-kay. I know now who I need to see in order to get permission to see him-- officer Patrick Stump. I need to stop by his office.  
Walking down the hall, I began to venture out on my journey to Stump’s office, being sure to keep my guard up against anyone that’s enough of a jackass to start shit with me. Since Pete’s not around (probably at yet another yoga session, like always), I gotta be sure to not get my ass handed to me. I can’t be seeing Gerard in the hospital when I myself look like I need to be admitted to one, after all.  
“Hey, Frank!” A couple voices called out in unison, ones I’ve never heard before. I turned around to find two men I never thought I’d ever hear speak to me-- Tyler and Josh. They both ran up to me, the both of them looking wiped out like they just ran a marathon.  
Seriously, though...they just spoke, and to me, no less. I never thought I’d ever hear them utter a word to anyone, let alone to me! What a fucking surprise, huh? The two quiet guys finally decided to speak up!  
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, still shocked from whom I just heard speak right to me for the first time in...well, ever.  
“We just wanted to let you know something,” Tyler said. “We wanted to tell you that...your guy, Gerard? We’re proud of him for taking out Cecil. We never thought he had it in him!”  
“Yeah, that Cecil guy was a jerk. If we could have a dime for every single time that jag-off picked on us...we’d be billionaires,” Josh chimed in gleefully. “We know Gerard’s not here, but...we wanna tell you guys thank you. With him dead, this place is a little less of a hell-hole,”  
Woah, wait a second...how did they know? How in the hell did these two guys know that Gerard and I have a connection? Are the fucking psychics or something?  
“Whoah, wait a second…, I said. “How did you--”  
“Hey, Frank,” Patrick called out, making me jump when he came up behind me and patted me on the back. “How was that phonecall?”  
“It was, ah…,” I paused, trying to put together exactly how it was. It’s left me itching to see Gerard, that’s for sure. “Good, I guess,”  
“That’s good,” he nodded, making his way past the three of us. “I’ll be seeing you around. No trouble, okay?”  
Come on, ask him, Frank!  
“Oh! Wait a minute, hold up!” I said, suddenly remembering what I said I was gonna do after talking to Ray. “Patrick, I got a question to ask,”  
“Oh? What’s that?” he asked, turning back. All eyes are on me now, like I’m the center act of a show, with all the lights on me.  
“I, ah...I need to ask you something very important. It came up after talking to Ray,”  
“Yeah? What is it?”  
“Well, you see...I’m not sure if you know this, but…,” I stopped, trying my damndest to get myself together and spit it out already. I’m not sure if he already knows. “Gerard...he’s still alive. He survived, and...Ray told me he’s in the hospital. He has been ever since he was...attacked, I should say. So when Ray called, he asked me if I wanna see Gerard, and I really do so...can I please see him?”  
The whole room went quiet, with all eyes still on me. I can tell that Patrick is thinking of whether to say yes or no to the request, seeing his head hung down in deliberation. My chest began to constrict, my heart inside of it starting to beat faster. I’m also starting to shake and sweat. He’s gotta say yes. He’s gotta let me see Gerard. He just has to! I will not take no for an answer! I need to see Gerard. He needs me…  
“Come on, man! Let him see Gerard!” Tyler suddenly said, looking like he’s jumping with excitement.  
“Yeah, come on, man!” Josh joined in, looking just as enthused over my request to see my lover in the hospital. “You owe him one, Pat!”  
“Frank…,” Patrick finally said, looking up at me with a grin on his face. “I knew sooner or later you’d ask,”  
“R-really?” I gasped, my eyes widening.  
Come on, Patrick! Say yes, please! Please let me see Gerard! It would mean the whole world to me, just like Gerard himself does!  
“Yes...because we’ve already arranged a ride for you to go out to see Gerard,” Patrick replied, the smile on his face growing bigger and warmer.  
Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!  
“Oh...my...god!” I exclaimed, cupping my hands with my mouth. “Thank you so much, Patrick!” Unable to contain myself, I leapt forward, giving him a quick but sweet hug as I wiped away the tears in my eyes. Tyler and Josh stood beside me, cheering for me.  
“You’re welcome, Frank. You can call back Ray later and tell him that there’s transportation to the hospital set up for you tomorrow afternoon,” Patrick continued. “We’ll get you set up with some nice clothes to wear too. Be sure to be ready by one, okay?”  
It’s actually gonna happen! I’m gonna finally be able to see Gerard! Finally, after all this time of longing for him and missing him dearly...I’m finally coming back to him, where we’ll be together yet again. I know I’ll have to get a good night’s sleep to be prepared for tomorrow, but it’ll honestly be hard to sleep at all without thinking of Gerard, who’s still alive and breathing.  
Don’t worry, baby...I’m coming for you!  
_ _ _  
I was right about last night. I was barely able to sleep well, much to my cynical prediction. I spent the whole night tossing and turning in bed, my mind unable to get Gerard off of it. The only thing I was able to see in my dreams was him, smiling at me from his hospital bed and embracing me warmly, just like he always used to do. I am now less than twenty-four hours away from seeing him, and I'll be honest...I am shaking with both excitement and fear. After all these months of being away from him, I finally get to be with him, never to be separated again. When he gets out of the hospital, he’ll be back here in this hell hole with me, but all that matters is that we’ll be together again. It doesn't matter if we’re back at the house together or in prison together, or even in the fiery pits of hell with each other. Wherever and whenever I am with with him, I am home.  
After eating breakfast, getting dressed in a white button-up shirt and jeans, as well as receiving some good luck from Pete, Tyler, and Josh, I headed outside to the parking lot, where I was escorted by Patrick to a bus to take me to the hospital, where Gerard and the guys are waiting for me. It'll be nice to see them again...except for Mikey, that is. Maybe that'll change, though. Considering what turning us in resulted in, maybe he's changed and realized that what he did was a mistake in a way...maybe. But then again, had Gerard not been so hell-bent on his revenge...none of this would have happened, or even the other killings. His hatred and hunger for vengeance ended up getting him nearly killed...and here I am, trying to fix this sick man that I thought I have failed to put back together piece by piece. But I haven’t. Gerard's still alive and breathing...so my mission to fix him is not over yet, even after Cecil and Irvine have been scratched off his list. But I shouldn't sit here thinking with all this “shoulda, coulda, woulda” mumbo-jumbo or focusing too much on the future. I need to focus on the now. I gotta see Gerard, and the others as well.  
Before I knew it, we were already at the drop-off at the hospital near the front lobby. After thanking the driver, Patrick and I stepped out and asked the lady at the front desk for Gerard's number.  
”He's in room 2317, in the intensive care wing. It'll be to your left when you get up there,” she said, glancing at Gerard's information on the computer monitor screen.  
Intensive care? Jesus…  
”Thank you,” Patrick said, with something now off about him--the look on his face. He’s no longer smiling, like his usual upbeat self. Something's not right here.  
”You alright?” I asked, feeling a sudden pang in my chest. Whatever's wrong, and whatever it may be, is already eating at me.  
”Frank...I think you should talk to your friends before you go see Gerard,” he frowned, his face forlorn. “They can explain everything much better than I can,”  
...what?  
”What do you mean?” I asked as we made our way to the elevator, pressing the 2 button to head up the second floor. “What are you talking about, Pat-”  
“Frank...you'll see,” he sighed, leaving me with a million questions in my head. I know for sure I'm gonna see the guys...and I'm gonna turn to them go answer those millions of questions for me.  
When we got to the second floor, me and Patrick walked down the hall where we were greeted by a male nurse named Brendon, who walked us to the the door or Gerard's room. Ray, Bob, and Mikey all stood by there, their eyes looking up at me like they’ve been expecting me, of course. That was when me and Patrick parted ways, mouthing me a “see ya later” before he stopped following me down the hall. I swear, there's something very wrong here. Patrick's not happy like his usual self...and the others don't either. Of course, not a lot of people are gonna be all smiles when they’re in a place full of sick and dying people like a hospital, but Ray and Bob should be happy to at least see me after so many months, right? Not Mikey, though. I know he’d hate me being here, but I don’t care--  
“Frankie,” he suddenly called out to me (hey, speak of the devil). He ran up to me, his eyes full of worry like he's been fearing for my well-being. He also looks like he's been...crying too, those aforementioned worried eyes of his looking like he's done a good deal of it. “Thank god you're here,”  
What? Thank god I'm here, Mikey? You, out of all people, are saying that to me? Whatever. Just please, tell me what the hell is going on here?  
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, still stunned that Mikey is actually relieved at the sight of me, knowing what he and I have been through prior to all this. “What's going on?”  
“Seriously, Frank...he’s right,” Ray said, his happy and chipper self completely absent, seeing the crestfallen look in his sad, lackluster brown eyes. “It's good you're finally here. We all missed you...and I think the same can be said for Gerard. He needs you,”  
“I know he does. I need to see him now,” I said, now finding right now as the perfect moment to start asking questions to these guys about why everyone's so down in the dumps. Gerard can’t be in that bad of a condition, can he? “What’s going on, guys? Why is everyone so--”  
“Frank...there’s a few things you need to know before you see him,” Mikey stepped in. “The reason why we’re all like this is because...we went through four months of...oh god, it’s hard to explain,” he stopped, wincing as he tried his damndest to hold back tears. It wasn’t long before he completely lost it, leaping forward and wrapping his arms around me as he wept relentlessly.  
“Oh my god, Frank…,” he sniffled. “He’s...he’s not just in really bad shape...he’s...he’s…,”  
“He’s what?” I spat out, unsure what to do with the sobbing Mikey in my arms as I felt my whole world around me go gray. “What’s wrong with Gerard? Please tell me he’s gonna pull through--”  
“Frank...that’s where you’re mistaken,” Ray said, cutting me off, his voice trembling with discontent like he’s on the verge of tears just like Mikey, as well as the silent but somber and not stoned-out Bob.  
Oh, no...oh no, no, no, no…  
“Wh-what? What do you mean?” I choked out, still barely able to grasp what Ray just told me, because my mind refuses to believe that Gerard’s dying. He’s not gonna die. Ray and Mikey are lying. They’re just exaggerating. Gerard’s gonna be okay. He just has to be, damn it! “What do you mean I’m mistaken--”  
“He’s not gonna make it, Frank...that’s what we’re trying to say, man,” Bob said. “Poor guy’s got machines breathing for him in there,”  
No...no, no, no, no, no! You’re full of shit, Bob!  
“He’s right, sadly,” Ray added, wiping at his eyes. “Frank...I lied to you when I said I’ve tried calling you when you were in confinement. I haven’t called once. It was for the best--”  
“What?” I shouted, feeling myself tremble. That dirty snake fucking lied to me! I was sitting in that goddman prison, mourning over the loss of the one man and I love and care about, and no one has even attempted to tell me anything? Goddamn you, Ray. “Why not? Why would you not--”  
“Because, Frank...Gerard’s been in a coma for so long...and we never knew if he was gonna wake up,” Mikey cut me off, coming to Ray’s defense as he backed away from me, his face still raw with tears. “Only recently he woke up, when you were close to getting out of confinement...but with the state he’s in, we want you to see him because we think it’ll make him happy. He’s been hurting so much, and...we think him seeing you will make the hurt in him go away a little. But, from the looks of it, he’s not gonna have very long to live. He could die literally any day now at any second...and we thought that it’d be nice for you two to see each other one last time before he...passes on, I should say. The reason why we never called was because we knew you wouldn’t wanna see Gerard in the state he was in, but...it’s not like he’s in much better shape awake,”  
No...this can’t be….Gerard is...gonna die? He can’t, though. He survived getting stabbed in the fucking heart. No one can survive that. I know he’s stronger than that. He’s pulled through so much, and it was all thanks to my help and wanting to fix him. I know Gerard’s better than that. He woke up out of the coma, so he’s gotta be okay, right? Why would Ray and Mikey say that the state he’s in now is no better than him being in a coma, though? That’s just...wrong. Some friends he has…  
“What are you guys talking about?” I asked. “If he’s not in a coma anymore...then he’s gotta be conscious, right? He’s gotta be able to hear, see, talk, and--”  
“No, Frank. You’re wrong,” Mikey rebutted, still barely able to hold back his tears. “Gerard...he...well, because of what happened to him, being stabbed in the heart and enduring trauma to the head...he’s not the same anymore. The severe damage done to his heart and the lack of oxygen to his brain while unconscious really messed him up...permanently. Gerard’s gone, Frank. This is someone new...someone that I don’t think can hear us, or even remember any of us either. All he does is lie there, screaming and crying at the thin air, and drooling like a baby. He can’t do anything for himself, and his doctor told us he’ll have no chance of recovery, if not barely at all. He can’t feed, bathe, dress himself, or even go to the bathroom. The aides and nurses here take care of him. He’s gotta be bathed in bed, changed, turned and repositioned to prevent bedsores, and fed through a tube. He’s hopeless, Frank. This is what we’ve been trying to tell you, Frank. It was a little less painful to see him in a coma than he is now. He’s also combative with us, too. I can’t tell you how many times he’s freaked out and tried to hurt me, Ray, and Bob. Gerard’s not just broken, Frank. He’s turned into a monster...one that deserves to be dead, as cold as it sounds…,”  
I didn’t say anything at all. Everything I just took in has left me speechless, wanting to crawl into a dark hole and die a slow and horrible death. I deserve all of that instead of Gerard, anyway. He’s not the same anymore...he’s really gonna die, isn’t he? I don’t even know how I can take in all of this. I don’t know whether to break down into tears or scream like a maniac and jump out of a window, killing myself. I cupped hands over my mouth, wanting to puke at the thought and sight of some monster replacing everything I knew and loved about the man that is Gerard Way. The terrible things that Mikey just said about him. are now stuck in my head, repeating like a broken record player wired into my mind.  
Gerard’s gone.  
He’s not the same anymore.  
He’s become a monster.  
He’s gonna die soon.  
He needs me…  
“Oh, no…,” I finally said, shaking my head in pure disbelief of all that I just heard. “He's...he's broken again. He really is broken...and I can't fix him anymore...can I?”  
Mikey sighed woefully, looking over at an equally as sad Ray and Bob, who all looked back at me. I can tell in their disenchanted eyes that the answer is yes. I really have failed after all...I am a failure that couldn't save Gerard. I can't save something that's now far beyond repair. He’s now not just broken...he's hopeless.  
“I'm sorry, Frank...this is all my fault,” he said, wiping at his eyes again. “I didn’t know that Gerard was responsible for killing another person other than the family he killed. I didn’t know you were involved. I caused all of this. I brought this upon my brother. I put him in a terrible place for the rest of his life...and now he’s gonna die. I knew I had to turn him in, because he was clearly a threat to everyone around him, but...I still love him, Frank. I can understand why you hate my guts,”  
You know what? I was wrong about Mikey. None of this was his fault. It wasn’t my fault either that Gerard ended up the way he did. I tried to stop him from killing Cecil, but I failed. Gerard was the one that put his love of revenge over all else. He put his hatred above all...and this is what it turned him into--a sick, dying monster with no dignity left to live. This is what hatred did to him. When I brought love into his life in the very beginning and let him know that he wasn’t alone, I was starting to fix him, and as cheap as it sounds, it was my love for him that fixed him...just to have it all ruined by his rage and loathsome nature. Mikey turned Gerard in out of love--a form of tough love, but still love nonetheless. He did it to protect everyone else around Gerard, to prevent anyone from falling into his destructive path...and I was one of those people that joined him on that very same path, making me just as much of a monster as Gerard.  
“No Mikey, it’s not. You turned him in out of love. You did the right thing,” I said, placing a comforting hand on Mikey’s shaking shoulder as he cried and trembled. “If you hadn’t turned him in...more people would have gotten hurt. He would have, too. It was his obession that ruined him,”  
“His obsession with what?” Mikey asked, looking up from his tear-drenched hands.  
“His obsession with revenge. His hatred did this to him,”  
We all stayed silent, my own words seeming to echo throughout the hospital hall, as well as all our minds. But I can’t sit here for too long. I have someone in this place to see...one last time.  
“So...I guess now you know the state Gerard’s in, and what he’s like now,” Ray finally said. “As I’ve said before, he can’t really communicate effectively. All he does is mumble, cry, and scream. However...we’ve noticed something. He can speak...but very little. It’s only two words he can say,”  
“What are they?” I asked.  
“They’re...mama, and,” Ray paused, his eyes looking deep into mine. “Frankie,”  
Hearing my own name, I felt my heart skip a beat. I was right, and so were the others. He really does need me. He remembers me too. Now I really gotta get in there and see Gerard. I know he’s waiting for me. He’s been crying not only from the pain he’s been in, but for me. It all makes sense now. Now I need to depart myself from the guys. I gotta get in there where Gerard is waiting for me.  
Hold on, baby...I’m coming back to you.  
“Okay,” I said, starting to part ways with Mikey, Ray, and Bob as I gripped the door handle to Gerard’s hospital room, number 2317.  
“Be careful in there,” Mikey said before I finally opened up the door and walked inside.  
The room is abnormally dark, with only a few very dim lights on in here. Even the window that’s open doesn’t bring any light to the darkness around Gerard. He’s there in his hospital bed with his eyes closed, a whole bunch of machines all around and hooked up to him to keep his body alive and breathing. There’s a bunch of tubes in his arms, as well as one in his stomach and another one cut into his throat, most likely to help him breathe. It’s like he’s not even alive lying still in that bed. I’ve never seen anyone look so pale and barely alive. But he’s not dead. He only looks that way. However, I think Mikey and the others were right--he is better off dead. No one should be kept alive to suffer like this, especially not Gerard…  
I stopped dead in my tracks near the bed, where I started to break down and cry so hard like I’ve never done before. I was not ready for this. He just looks so cold and helpless, and it’s because he’s dying…  
No.  
This isn’t happening, is it?  
This has gotta be a dream, right? I need to wake up. When I wake up, Gerard will be there, smiling over me and telling me good morning, just like he always does. I’ll wake up and it’ll all be over. None of this can be real! It’s just...oh god it’s--  
No. This is real. Gerard really is there right in front of be at that bed, the machines around him functioning for his dying self, one of them beeping to record the rate of his weak heart. It’s the only sound that fills this room, along with the hum of the other machines. I can’t even hear my own cries over it or my own beating heart. I can’t stay here, though. Gerard may be asleep, but he’s still waiting for me. He’ll wake up and see me, and he’ll remember me and smile. That’s why he needs me. He’ll say my name, happy to see that I’ve finally come to see him and heal his hurt.  
“Gerard,” I said, sitting down on a chair at his bedside, a plethora of cards, flowers, balloons, and stuffed animals beside it, all of them from three people that care about him. I slowly reached out to him, brushing his damp bangs from his perspiring face. He’s just so fucking cold, though. “Can you hear me, baby?”  
Nothing. Nothing at all from him. It's not like he heard me at all, or even acknowledged the fact that I'm right next to him. He's definitely out of it. People say that you look peaceful when you sleep. Not here, though. Gerard doesn't look peaceful at all. He looks so sick, the pain just radiating from him. His eyes and cheeks are so sunken too, the poor thing. But he's gotta wake up...he just has to! He has to know I'm finally here for him, after all these months of missing him.  
“Gee, wake up...it’s me, Frankie,” I said, shaking him a little. “Come on, wake up, Gee...it's me…,”  
Still nothing. I already feel like giving up. I shouldn’t be waking him up, or I might upset him and make him cry, since that’s the only thing that he seems to do, based off what Ray and Mikey told me. I guess now is the time to play the waiting game. I sighed deeply, leaning back in my chair and put my hands in my pocket--  
Wait a minute. There’s something in my left pocket of my jacket...something I almost forgot. I remember I wore this black hoodie when I got that letter from Gerard that one day months ago; it’s the letter he told me to hold on to and not to read until he’s “gone”. I never got the chance to read it when I was in the Box, obviously because it was too dark and the wouldn’t even let me wear the jacket in that cold and dark box. Well, in a way, Gerard is gone...just not in the same way as the usually thought of. He’s still alive...but barely. There’s nothing left of him, except for his vegetized, unconscious, and drooling self. I think that now, no matter how too early or too late it may be, is the right time to read the letter. I need to know Gerard’s final words before he vanished for good, never again to come back home to me, Ray, Bob, and Mikey. I gripped on to the piece of white liked paper that’s all folded up, with my name written on it. I slowly opened it up, closing my eyes tight as I did before I fully opened it up to read--  
Oh my god...I remember this. It’s something that Gerard has sung to me. It’s that song that Gerard sang to me in the darkest of times.  
The Light Behind Your Eyes.  
There’s a new part written right below the chorus Gerard sang to me before he fought Cecil; it’s a new set of lyrics that he wrote to me before his judgement day:  
Sometimes we must get stronger and, you can’t be stronger when I’m gone.  
When I’m there, no longer, you must be stronger, and…  
That’s all it was, just two lines at the bottom of the sheet of the song. They’re familiarly spoken words, thought. They’re words that a very special person in Gerard’s life spoke to him on her deathbed, and her name was Elena, Gerard’s grandma. But how can I be strong when the one thing that’s kept me that way is soon to be gone? How can I ever find the will to go on when I have nothing left to live for? Gerard is the one thing that meant the whole world to me, and he’s dying right before my eyes…  
“Oh, Gerard…,” I cried, the tears starting to pour from my disenchanted eyes. You’ve gotta wake up. I’ve gotta see you and your beautiful eyes again. You can’t die on me like this. I can’t be stronger without you. I can’t keep fighting when you are gone. I just can’t, Gerard...I love you! I fucking love you, Gerard Way!”  
Giving in, I buried my face into Gerard’s chest, letting it all out and crying my weak heart and soul onto his. I’m cried so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I never wanna let him go, even if sooner or later I’ll have no choice. This really can’t be happening. This really can’t be fucking happening to him!  
“Ma...ma?”  
I brought my head up, a faint whimper coming from who I’ve been longing to hear from again for the longest time. Gerard’s finally awake. He said mama...one of the only two things he’s capable of uttering. I smiled bittersweetly, seeing Gerard finally open up those dark, foresty eyes of his, those green and brown orbs of his glimmering in the dim light of the room. He’s awake...but he’s still gone.  
“Gee,” I choked out, wiping at my tears as I looked into his lost eyes. “Hey there, Gee. It’s me, Frankie,”  
“Ma...ma? Mama?” Gerard mumbled, looking up at me in bewilderment as a string of drool ran down his chin, which I promptly wiped up. “Mama?”  
“No, it’s not mama...mama’s gone,” I said, feeling like shit for telling the sad truth. He’s gotta remember me, though. He knows my name. That’s what Mikey told me. “It’s Frankie, your sugar pop, remember? Your baby, your sunshine, your--”  
“N-no!” he growled in frustration, shifting about as he began to flail his arms in the air aimlessly. It’s clear that I’ve already upset him, being the idiot I am. “Mama! Mama!”  
“Gerard, shh!” I shushed him, trying my damndest to calm him down as I reached out to soothe him. “It’s okay, Gee. It’s Frank--”  
“Mama!” he screamed, reaching forward and grabbing my arm, his nails clawing into it. I winced, pulling back from the pain of Gerard digging his sharp nails into my skin. That actually really fucking hurt, not just physically though. He just wants his mama...even though it should sadly be known to him that she’s been gone for years. I looked at him as he struggled in his bed helplessly, feeling myself cry for him, tears running down my devastated eyes. “Mama! Mama! Mama! Mama!”  
“Gee, stop it!” I said, finding myself raising my voice at him, reaching out to him to hold him down in my clawed-up arms. Behind him, one of his machines began to deep loudly, indicating something’s gone wrong with him. He fell back, his body curling up in a fetal position as he began to sob violently, clutching at his wounded chest. He’s really, really hurting...and I need to help heal whatever I can, even though I failed to fix him.. I can’t let the pain take that one special thing from behind his eyes.  
“Shhh, Gee...it’s okay,” I whispered to him, rocking him back and forth in my arms as he cried and sniffled, having the resemblance of a baby, me being the loving mother soothing it to sleep.   
“Ma...ma...ma...ma…,” he whimpered.  
“Gerard,” I said softly, opening up my mouth to sing him a lullaby to hopefully soothe him from his pain and suffering. “If I could be with you tonihgt, I would sing you to sleep, never let them take the light behind your eyes…,”  
“Ma...ma?”  
“...I failed and lost this fight…,” I finally said, knowing that what I said was indeed true. That’s when I really felt the tears coming, unable to shed a single one as I held Gerard close to me. I failed to save him. I really have lost the long and hard fight I’ve been in to save and fix Gerard. I am a failure. I am pathetic. I’m--  
“Fran...kie?” Gerard suddenly uttered, his eyes gazing up at me in wonder. “Fran...kie, Frankie, no cry…,”  
Oh my god...now I’m really fucking crying. He really does remember me! He said my own name! Gerard does remember me! He told me not to cry...but I can’t do that; not after what he just said!  
“Never fade in the dark, just remember you will always burn as bright…,” I sang before it all came to a close, ending the last note with a kiss to Gerard’s pale cheek. I finally wiped at my eyes, mine looking deep into his that continued to stare at mine. He now does look peaceful unlike before, his body being cradled into my arms. “I love you, Gerard. I really, really do,”  
“I-I...l-luv you too, Frankie,” Gerard said, smiling up warmly at me. I watched him as he slowly shut those beautiful eyes of his. Gerard can fall asleep right in my arms and I wouldn’t mind at all. I’d be with him all night in this hospital room, and until the very end...or until my heart explodes.  
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” I sang to him, his blanketed body still close to mine as I rocked and sang him to sleep, just like I said I’d do for him, and never let anyone or anything take the light behind his eyes. “You make me happy, when skies are gray. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away…,”’  
Gerard choked under his breath, his body going limp right in my arms as the machines around him began to beep loudly again, meaning that the body they’ve been struggling to keep alive is slipping away. I watched as his whole body went cold and turned lifeless right in my arms, having the resemblance of a ragdoll.  
No...this can’t be it...this can’t already be the end...he’s gonna die broken! My sunshine’s gonna be taken away from me forever!  
“Gerard!” I screamed, the noise of the loud machines, as well as the sight and feeling of Gerard’s lifeless body throwing me over the edge. “Gerard, wake up! Gerard! Gerard...GERARD!”  
Nothing. Nothing at all from him, from the man that I failed to put back together. All the pieces have vanished right along with his very own life. Gerard Way died a broken man, his body in the arms of a heartbroken man--me--who started to scream and cry loudly as the doctors and nurses dragged me away, never again to see the man that’s brought light to my eyes. My very own sunshine has been taken away from me forever...


	28. Famous Last Words

(Author’s note: I have nothing against Bert McCracken, by the way. What happened between him and Gerard, as well as the rest of MCR, is all old news. Anyway, carry on…)

Can you hear me?  
Are you near me?  
Can we pretend to leave, and then  
We’ll meet again, when both our cars collide?  
What’s the worst that I can say?  
Things are better if I stay.  
So long, and goodnight  
So long, and goodnight

 

Those are words I’ve sung constantly ever since the day Gerard left me forever, even after four years later. Those previous four years have been a struggle of life and death for me. I’ve missed him dearly, and I still do to this very day. Gerard wrote those lyrics in memoriam of his grandma, but now, I’m singing them in memory of him.  
I’m still locked away in this prison, constantly going over all the things Gerard has told me to prevent myself from taking my own life. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to kill myself ever since I lost him. It’s been too many times for me to count that I’ve been put in the Box on suicide watch. Despite the many friends I’ve gained in this place, I still felt oh so lonely without him, and to be honest, it’s still like that today. I’ll never forget that tragic day he left me, where he died right in my arms, barely remembering the world around him, except for the man that’s tried to put him back together for so long. I am still hurting. I am still lonely despite the friendly company I’ve surrounded myself in. I am still not entirely unbroken without him…  
But I’m not giving up. I am not afraid anymore like I used to be. Gerard told me to keep fighting, to keep running even after he’s gone. He told me to be stronger, and that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do. I know Gerard would be disappointed in me if I were to give up and kill myself, so I’m gonna continue to do what he’s told me to do. I’m gonna keep living for him, and keep fighting to survive in this prison without him. Besides, it’s been four years since I’ve been thrown in this place…which means I’ll be eligible for parole soon. If I continue to keep my head down and out of trouble (and not try to kill myself, like I’ve already done one too many times here) I’ll be able to leave earlier than my original sentence of fifteen years. All I have to do is be good and continue to do what Gerard told me to do in that note before he passed away, which I know will do. I am not scared anymore. I am not afraid to keep on living. I am not afraid to walk this world alone. I still see Gerard all the time, in and out of my dreams. I always see him smiling at me, happy that I’ve managed to not give up on him and myself. I want him to be happy. I want him to see that I’ve taken his words to heart.  
_ _ _  
Today marks a very special day. It’s not for me, though. That comes tomorrow, when I’ll be eligible for parole. Today’s a crucial day for my cellmate Pete; he gets to leave today. I still don’t know to this day what he did to land himself in this shithole, but it doesn’t matter. The law’s forgiven him of that and is gonna set him free, like a bird soon to fly its wings and escape from the cage it’s been locked up in. I can tell he’s very excited about it, just like any other prisoner would be. All morning he’s been jumping and dancing around as he packed his bags and signed a bunch of papers contributing to his release. I must say, I’m gonna miss him too. He’s been a really good friend and cellmate to have. He’s even managed to save my life a few times. If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve ended up in succeeding in killing myself. I envy him a bit that he gets to leave…okay, no. I’ll be honest—I’m very fucking jealous of him that he gets to leave. Since he’s leaving, I’ll still be here, left to rot in this godforsaken place. I can only hope that my next cellmate here will not be a complete malicious scumbag, like many of the people here that are always looking for trouble. Something tells me that I won’t be so lucky, and that scares me to near death…  
“I’m really gonna miss you, man,” Pete said, picking up the last of his bags as a cop stood beside him to escort him out of here for good. “It’s been quite the experience here with you,”  
“Yeah, it has,” I nodded, sitting at my bottom bunk, a now empty top bunk above me. “I’m gonna miss you, Pete,”  
“I will miss you too, Frank. But I’ll be sure to keep in touch with you. You know I’ll be flooding you with letters and phone calls,” Pete sang, starting to walk out of the cell one last time. “Don’t worry, Frank. I’ll be thinking of you…and Gerard. I’ll keep the both of you in my thoughts,”  
Hearing Gerard’s name come out of Pete’s mouth set me off a little, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter and my heart skip a beat. I must say, it made my eyes water a little too. I know I shouldn’t cry, though. I know Gerard wouldn’t wanna see me crying over him years after he passed away. He’d want me to be happy and smiling, remembering all the good times with him. I can still feel him right next to me, telling his sugar not to cry. I smiled warmly, trying my damndest to hold back those stinging tears. I stood up, walking right to my leaving cellmate and gave him a big hug, him dropping all my bags and gracefully returning the favor.  
“Thank you,” I said, my voice choked back by the tears that started to run from my eyes. “Thank you so much, Pete. I really appreciate it,”  
“You’re welcome, man,” Pete replied, our bodies departing from each other one last time. He smiled, walking out of the cell as the impatient cop followed him. “Talk to you later, Frank. Keep your head up high, okay?”  
“Will do,” I said to him as he waved goodbye, walking down the hall with his escort. He of course returned it, smiling and waving one last time before I turned away, never again to see him in this place. I must say, it does feel good to have this whole cell to myself; no more will I be awoken by Pete’s loud snoring. But me having no cellmate and the whole room for me doesn’t make up for how alone I’m soon to be. Who’s gonna be there when I do eventually slip up and go back to my old, self-loathing self, god forbid that does happen. That person’s gonna have to be myself.  
I turned away back further into my cell to wash up in the little sink next to the commode. All around it are pictures of me and Gerard, reminding me of all the good times we’ve had, to Gerard’s birthday party to the thousands of times we’ve cuddled in his bed or on the couch. I looked into the mirror as I ran some warm water to wet my face. I really have changed, not just emotionally, but physically. I do definitely look a little older, but not old enough to look like someone’s grandpa, of course. I have sure as hell matured, to say the least. It’s been a while since I’ve had my hair cut. My black hair has gotten pretty long, now touching my shoulders...  
I’m starting to look more like him. It’s almost like he’s right there in the mirror, looking back at me with all those photos all around him…  
“Gerard…I miss you,” I mouthed before splashing my face with water, washing my face up. I looked up again, just to see the same exact reflection as before. It’s really like he’s right there, smiling back at me. That smile quickly faded, though. It faded into a frown and tears in the eyes, running down the cheeks.  
“No, stop!” I said to myself, shaking my head. “Stop crying, damn you. Stop being a big baby, Frank. Gerard wouldn’t wanna see this. He wouldn’t wanna—“  
“Iero,” a voice called out, one that’s booming throughout the whole vicinity. I turned around to see a cop, one that’s clearly not Patrick. It’s another one…one that’s nowhere like him at all, both physically and mentally. I can immediately that he’s just like the rest of them. “You’ve got a new cellmate,”  
“Who?” I asked, only to have that question answered for me immediately when I got a good look at the man in the orange jumpsuit next to him, and I must say…I’m already getting bad vibes from him. Something tells me that like the cop next to him whose like all the other power-hungry officers, this guy is just like all the other prisoners—vile, malevolent, and always looking for trouble.  
“Iero, this is Bert. Bert McCracken. He’ll be your new cellmate. Just came in today,” the cop said, his introducing hand out to a slim, grimy man with long scraggly black hair and stubble on his chin. The smile he gave me made me cringe, his face giving me a “I’m really gonna hurt you and make you miserable” kind of look. I hate this Bert guy already. He’s gotta be in here for murder. I’ll be damned if I’m wrong.  
Goddamnit. My cellmate’s a fucking killer…just like the bad part of Gerard was.  
“Bert, this is Frank. Frank Iero. You’ll be sharing this cell with him,” the cop said. “Make yourself at home, and don’t kill each other, alright?”  
“Will do,” Bert sneered, his face full of nothing but bullshit lies. He walked in, only to have the cell door shut and locked by the officer, who promptly walked away without another word, leaving me with this scumbag that I’m already not very fond of. Bert turned to me, that shit-eating grin still on his face. “Hello there, Frankie...looks like we’re gonna have fun,”  
Oh, no…you did not just call me Frankie. No one calls me that…except for Gerard. But you’re not Gerard. You’re Bert Mc-fucking-Cracken, and you’re a fuckwit.  
“Please don’t call me that,” I said, feeling myself cringe from what he just called me. “I don’t like being addressed by that name. I prefer just Frank, thank you,”  
“Too bad!” Bert spat, his spittle flying right into my face, which I promptly wiped off in disgust. “I’ll call you whatever I want to…Fraaaaaaankie,”  
Oh…now I really, really don’t like you, fuckwit…  
It’s not worth it. This dirtbag is not worth me losing my parole. I can’t fight this guy. Besides, I’ve never been one to start one with someone, no matter how much of a jerk they may be. I know Gerard wouldn’t want me to take a swing at anyone…at least, not the good side of him…  
“Oh, who is this here?” Bert sang, ripping off one of the photos of me and Gerard from my mirror…without my permission. His brown eyes examined it, getting his grimy hands all over it like the piece of shit he is. “Is this your boyfriend, Frankie?” he asked, pointing a finger at the Gerard in the photo next to me, the both of us smiling as we cuddled up on the couch together in it.  
“It’s none of your business. Put that back where you got it from, ple—“  
“Nope!” he exclaimed, examining the photo some more, clearly being not just a scumbag, but a nosy scumbag. “What happened to your boyfriend, Frankie? Did he die?”  
You motherfucker…don’t you dare ask that!  
“You don’t need to know anything, fuckwit!” I snarled, walking straight up to him and snatching the photo right from his filthy hands. “You don’t even deserve to speak of him! You’re dirt!”  
“Ohhhh…someone’s got attitude,” Bert grinned sinisterly, not at all taken back by my venomous words. Maybe he is, though. Maybe I did hurt his feelings, but is too much of a coward to admit it, the bastard. “I bet your boyfriend is dead because you gave him AIDS and you killed him, huh? Is that why he’s—“  
“Shut up!” I screamed, feeling myself tremble. I can’t take it anymore. He’s really done it now. I know Gerard wouldn’t wanna see me like this, but I can’t stand this any longer. I can’t afford to stand by and let someone talk about Gerard like that. He doesn’t deserve any of that at all. I can already feel tears of pure hurt and rage fill up my eyes, unable to hold them back. “You shut the fuck up! You’re a goddamn liar! Shut…the…fuck…up!”  
“Make me!” he sneered, more of his spittle emitting from his mouth and right on to my cheek. I growled, deciding it really is best to just walk away and mind my own business. I just gotta tell myself over and over again that he’s not worth it. I’m gonna just walk away and wash up my face again and get his filth off of me. That’s all I’m gonna fucking do, despite that feeling eating at me to punch him right in the fucking face. I walked right past Bert and to the sink, leaving him with a dirty look on my face as I turned on the sink, running some more warm water in it.  
Just leave it alone, Frank…he’s not fucking worth it…  
“Hey, Frankie,” Bert called out as I washed my face in the sink. “I want the bottom bunk. Move your stuff up top,”  
Are you serious? You’re not taking my goddamn bunk bed. I’m shorter than you, anyway. I’ve had that bed since I first got here four years ago. Ain’t no way you’re gonna come in here and call the shots. It doesn’t work that way, buddy.  
“No,” I said flatly, hoping it’ll sink in through his thick skull. “That’s my bunk. Leave it alone. You get the top—“  
“Since when? You don’t make the rules! I don’t even see your name on it!” Bert rebutted, already clearly angered that I’m not giving in to his bullshit. “Give me the fucking bunk, Frankie!”  
“No!”  
“Yes!”  
I fell back, feeling Bert’s fist punch me clear in the face, the pain radiating from my left cheek. I landed right on my can, holding my now throbbing face as I eyed Bert in pure bitterness. Now he’s really done it. I can’t sit here and take all of this. I need to fight back. Gerard would tell me to stand up for myself and not take bullshit from anyone. I’m not sure about the violence part, but I just can’t sit back and be the victim. This Bert guy needs to learn a lesson from me—don’t fuck with a gay prisoner whose boyfriend died years ago. I stood up, looking straight at Bert’s filthy face as I hit it, making him fall back as I felt something in him break.  
“Fuck you, you fucking fuck!” I yelled, feeling my throat already going hoarse. I saw Bert wince, holding on to his bleeding nose as he shakily stood up, wiping at the blood running down from his now broken nose. Now there’s no way in hell I’ll be getting that parole chance tomorrow…I am so fucked…  
“You…you motherfucker!” Bert hollered, taking another swing at me. It was at that moment that a fistfight broke out, the both of us pummeling each other to a bloody pulp. I punched Bert in the face, just to have him do the same to me. I know the good and rational side of him wouldn’t be happy with me…but that’s not what his dark side would be. He’d be cheering me on, telling me to beat Bert until he’s a bloody mess that can’t stand on his two feet.  
I’m sorry, Gerard…I am so, so sorry—  
Bert punched me right in the face again, making me stumble to the floor. I hit my head against something hard behind me, probably the sink. I fell to the floor, too weak to get back up like before…  
Oh no…I can’t move! What’s happening?  
“You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!” Bert screamed above me, kicking my head in again and again, my head now throbbing and barely able to take in its surroundings.  
I can’t see anything. I can barely hear anything. I can’t even feel anymore! I can’t get up! I can’t feel my arms or legs. I can’t breathe, either! What the fuck is happening to me? What the fuck is going on? Is this the end for me…?  
“Get away from him!” another voice yelled, one that sound like it belongs to Patrick. My head’s not being kicked in anymore. Patrick must’ve stopped him. “Oh no…fuck, look at all that blood! There’s so much blood! He’s badly hurt! Someone, get an ambulance quickly!”  
I’m slipping away. That’s what’s happening. I’m probably gonna die…I am gonna die! This is the end for me…I am gonna die, just like Gerard. I’m gonna pass away in this damn cell, never again to live and breathe another day. At least I’ll never have to deal with Bert. He can rot for all I care. My whole world around me went black as I closed my eyes, my dying body giving in on me. I know I’ll never open up my eyes again. It’s the end of the line for me…  
I’m so sorry, Gerard…I failed you…  
I love you, Gerard. I hope you can forgive me…  
_ _ _  
“Look, guys! He’s opening his eyes! Ray! Bob! He’s…he’s waking up!” someone exclaimed.  
Who’s there? Where am I? Ray? Bob? Mikey? Are you guys there? I need to open my eyes…  
“Oh…oh, Frankie…,” a different voice spoke, sounding sad.  
“Poor thing, man…,” another one said, sounding equally as unhappy. “Poor, poor Frankie…,”  
I opened my eyes, a bright light blinding me up above. There are three heads looking down at me, all of them belonging to people I know! It really is them! It’s Ray, Bob, and Mikey…but they all look sad. I guess it’s because I’m in the hospital, seeing the bed I’m lying in with all the machines I’m hooked up to, as well as the cards, flowers, stuffed animals, and balloons near me at my bedside. But shouldn’t they be happy for me? I survived being beat up by Bert! I remember every fleeting moment of it, from start to finish. They should be happy I’m awake, right?  
“Looks like you pulled through a bit…,” Mikey said, still frowning. “Maybe too much…,”  
What? What are you talking about, Mikey?  
“Frank…can you hear us?” Ray asked, reaching his hand out to hold mine. There’s something off about his eyes. They look wet, like he’s been crying...but why? “If you can hear me, Frank…squeeze my hand,”  
Okay, if you want…  
Wait a minute. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I squeeze his hand like he asked me to? Something’s not right here. I need to tell him!  
Wait…I can’t talk either…  
Oh, no…something’s wrong…very, very wrong…  
“Come on, Frank! Squeeze my hand! You’ve got to!” Ray cried, his voice growing weepy. “You’ve gotta hear me! Please!”  
“Guys…he can’t…,” Mikey sighed. “The damage was too severe. That’s what Dr. Leto said, remember? He had almost no chance of waking up, and even if by some miracle he did…he’d be almost like Gerard. He’d never be the same again…,”  
What? No! That can’t be right! I can’t be a fucking vegetable! Bert couldn’t have damaged me that bad. If he did, I wouldn’t have never woken up from whatever deep sleep I was in!  
“But Mikey…Frank was only in a coma for a couple of weeks, compared to Gerard, who was in one for months! You gotta have faith in him, man! You’ve just gotta…,” Ray drifted off, already losing his steam. I felt him grip my hand tighter as the tears ran down from his eyes more and more.  
“I really wish I could, Ray. I really do…but the truth is, he’s hopeless. Even his own parents believed that he’d never come back. It baffles me they’d wanna keep him alive, the poor thing…,” Mikey looked down at me, looking like he’s trying his hardest not to cry, just like Ray and Bob next to him, but was failing. “We can’t keep him alive like this. He wouldn’t want that, and neither would Gerard. I don’t want him to sit here and rot away suffering, and not even knowing he exists. We tried holding out hope…but we got nothing. Dr. Leto said that it’s the end of the line for him. We’ve gotta let him go…,”  
What? Let me go? Am I really that terminally ill? Is this really the end for me? Am I really gonna die here? If so, then…I’m willing to accept it. This must be my time to go, after all. Whatever’s on the other side is waiting for me. I know Gerard will be there waiting for me. I need to see him. I need to be with him again. I know he misses me, because I miss him.  
“No! We can’t do that! We can’t kill Frank!” Ray rebutted angrily, clutching my hand so tight that I swear he’s cut my circulation off of it. He turned to me, begging for a sign for me. “Frank, if you can hear me and the others, please blink your eyes. Please!”  
I can’t, Ray. I can’t even blink my eyes for to give you a sign. Something as simple as blinking my eyes is far out of my ability. My eyelids feel like they’re glued open, making my eyes sore and cold. I’m sorry, Ray…I’m so, so sorry. It looks like Mikey really is right. I am gonna die. I really am at the end of the line. Besides, what’s the point of living if I can’t do anything? I don’t wanna go through a similar fate as Gerard did. Just please, let me see him again…  
“You’ve gotta let go, man,” Bob sighed remorsefully. “You wouldn’t want Frank to lie there suffering and not even know it, would you? No one would want that,”  
“He’s right, Ray,” Mikey joined in, taking a second to wipe at his eyes. “I wish none of this had to happen to Frank, but it did. The best we can do is help him out so that he’s not hurting anymore. I woulda done the same for Gerard, but…I didn’t, and I fucking regret it. If Gerard were here, I’m sure he’d want the same for Frank. He’d want him to die with dignity. It’s only best for him, Ray. We’ve all gotta let him go…,”  
Please, Ray. Please listen to them. I don’t want this. I don’t wanna lie here barely living, lying in my own waste all day and night, unable to care for myself at all. It’s too scary. Just let me die already. Let me be with him again…  
Ray sighed deeply, looking like he’s really trying to deliberate his options. It wasn’t long before he broke down, smearing the mascara on his face from all his tears that he’s been crying. He’s given up. He knows he was wrong. He’s gotta do the right thing.  
“I guess you’re right,” he sniffled, still holding on to my hand. “I’m just scared, that’s all. He was my best friend…and I’m scared of losing him. But if killing him is what’s best for him here…then so be it,”  
“I feel your pain, Ray,” Mikey said. “I really, really don’t wanna do this as much as you do…but it’s what’s best for him,”  
Thank you, Ray. Thank you for understanding. I really wish I could tell you that, but clearly, I can’t. I definitely would, if I could…  
Mikey looked away, examining the many machines I’m on to keep me alive. He got up and shut the door, then quickly came back, holding a series of cords in his hands. My life is literally in his hands now. I can see him shaking. There’s a part of him that’s just as scared as Ray is. I’m scared too. I’m literally gonna die here, and it’s only minutes away from now. I am minutes away from being reunited with Gerard once again, and forever. I never believed in an afterlife, until now…and Gerard is there waiting for me.  
Don’t worry, baby…I’m coming for you.  
“Well, F-frankie…this is…g-goodbye,” Mikey said shakily, his hands trembling with the cords in them, ready to be pulled from their plugs at any given moment.  
“We’re gonna miss you, man,” Bob joined in.  
“Goodbye, Frank...,” Ray said, not letting go of my hand.  
Time itself seemed to have paused at that moment, with all the cords still in Mikey’s hands. I can see he’s shaking so much. He’s scared. He’s terrified. He’s afraid of letting go. He shut his eyes, giving the wires a good yank and cutting off my lifeline. I already don’t feel right. I can’t breathe anymore through the tube that’s in my throat. I am literally gasping for air in my own paralyzed body. I am slipping away. My whole world around me is going gray. My eyes are closing shut…  
I am dying. I am soon to leave this body forever, never to return. I am coming back home to Gerard.  
“You were his whole world, Frank. You helped fix him…,” Mikey said, taking a spare pillow and planting it right above my face, smothering me as I slipped into unconsciousness. I know I’m never coming back from this. “You were the light behind his eyes…,”


	29. Epilogue: Fake Your Death

I slowly opened up my eyes from whatever deep sleep I was in, finding myself on the grassy ground. There’s something off about it. It’s not green like it’s supposed to be. It’s gray. Already confused, I sat up, only to find that not only the grass is gray. Everything’s not it’s normal color. Not the trees, or the sky, or even the river ahead of me. Everything’s a neutral shade, like all the colors have been sucked clean from this world. What is this? Where am I? I remember last being in the hospital, lying motionless in a bed as Mikey took my life from me. He did me a favor. He ended my suffering…but what is this world that my soul’s been brought to? Gerard’s here, right? He’s gotta be!  
“Gerard?” I called out, standing up. Something’s off about me, too. I looked down at my hands to see that even I am without even a hint of right color. My whole skin is snow white, as white as the hospital gown I’m wearing. Seriously, what the hell is this? Where is Gerard? Where is my sunshine that shines brighter than the dull sun above me that’s hidden by the big black tree behind me? He’s gotta be here! “Gerard, where are you?”  
Oh, no…what if Gerard’s not here? What if we are to be separated from each other forever, never again to see each other’s faces? What if Gerard really is gone forever? No…that can’t be! He’s gotta be here…he just has to!  
“Gerard! Gerard, where are you? Please tell me you’re here!” I called out, already feeling the tears well up in my eyes. They’re not regular tears, though. They’re black tears that are running from my worried eyes. “Please, Gee…give me a sign! Please tell me you’re here….I miss you so much…,”  
Nothing. Not one sign at all. I am alone here, forever away from wherever Gerard may be. I covered my eyes and wept, knowing that I’ll be stuck in this hell forever. Maybe this place isn’t hell, but rather some kind of limbo. It doesn’t matter, though. Anywhere with no Gerard is hell.  
“Gerard…oh, Gerard…,” I wept. “I miss you so much…,”  
“I missed you too, sugar,”  
I nearly dropped to the floor from a heart attack when I heard his voice again. I brought my head up to find him, standing there in front of me as he slowly walked toward me. He looks so beautiful, wearing a black suit and tie, his raven black hair neatly combed, his skin so pale yet so perfect, just like him. He smiled at me as he came to me, now standing only inches away from my now shaking body.  
“Gerard!” I yelled, taking him into my arms without any hesitation. I cried and cried, unable to stop the tears running from my stunned and joyous eyes. “Oh, Gerard…I thought I lost you forever! I thought I’d never see you again!”  
“Me too, baby…I was worried I’d never see my sunshine again…but here you are,” Gerard said, smiling at me as he brushed my bangs away from my face. “I’ve been waiting for you. Four years I’ve waited for you to come home to me. I’m just happy that you never gave up. After I left you, you kept on living. You walked the world alone without me,”  
“But Gerard...,” I sighed, knowing that I sure as hell have given up one too many times, almost taking my own life. “It was so hard. I’ve…I’ve tried to kill myself. I just couldn’t bear the fact that you were gone. I’m so sorry…,”  
Giving in, I buried my head in Gerard’s chest and cried, knowing that he must be mad at me for trying to kill myself. I am a failure. I am nothing but a disappointment, just like my mom and dad said. They were right about me. They—  
“Don’t cry, sugar,” Gerard cooed, holding me close. “It’s okay. I’ve been in your shoes before. After my grandma Elena died, I tried to do the same. I couldn’t imagine living without her. But I knew deep down she wouldn’t want me to succumb to suicide. I learned to move on and keep fighting. After all, sometimes we do gotta fall before we fly. Sometimes you have to kind of die inside in order to rise from your own ashes and believe in yourself and love yourself to become a new person,”  
Oh, Gerard…how right you are…how soft-spoken you are with your words…  
“You’re…you’re right,” I sniffled. “But here we are now. We’re free to be together, right?”  
“Of course we are, sugar pop,” Gerard smiled warmly. “Come with me, Frankie. I have something for you,”  
“Oh, boy! I can’t wait to see what it is!” I exclaimed joyously, following right along with Gerard. We walked down a little path to the river, where a blanket and picnic basket waited for us, along with some candles and flowers.  
“Here we are,” he sang, leading me to the picnic spot with him, sitting the both of us down. He opened up the basket to pull out a giant chef’s salad for us, along with a bottle of red wine and some glasses for us to drink from, as well as some fresh-baked bread and olive oil. I already feel hungry looking at the delicious food. “Well, let’s chow down, shall we?”  
“Yes! I’m starving!” I laughed, taking some salad and bread. I took one of the glasses of wine that Gerard poured for us, taking a long sip of the savory liquor. “This is great, Gerard! Thank you so much!”  
“Anything for my sugar pop,” he said, taking a bite of his salad. This really is more than just great. This is amazing! I must be in heaven. But then again, any place where I’m with Gerard is heaven for me, whether it’s in a park or in fucking prison. As I ate my food, I suddenly realized something—will Mikey and the others really miss me? Will my own mom and dad miss me too? Am I really dead yet? I sure don’t feel that way, that’s for sure…  
“Hey, Gerard,” I said, feeling like an idiot for getting ready to ask such a dumb question. “Am I…dead?”  
Gerard seemed to have taken in my question, thinking and deliberating what to say. He looked down, letting my words sink in. I guess it wasn’t a dumb question, after all…  
“Well…yes and no. You’re not really dead yet,” he said.  
“What? Really?” I asked, baffled. “How so?”  
“Well…do you remember what happened before you came here?” Gerard asked, taking a sip of wine. “Mikey took you off life support and started to smother you with a pillow. That’s when you passed out. Time’s barely passed here. The doctors and nurses are trying to resuscitate you right now. You’re dying. You’re really passing away, and you’re not coming back. It’s not like you can fake your death after all, can you?”  
“Really? How do you know that?” I said, wanting to ask millions of questions about how that’s possible. “What is this place anyway? Is this like an afterlife or something?”  
“Honestly…I don’t know what it is. It could just be some kind of dream we all see before we actually die, or it could be an afterlife like you said, and this is what we see when we’re passing. It’s beyond me. I do know I was here when I was dying, too…and I saw you. You were holding me and singing to me. It was so beautiful…,” Gerard paused, looking so deep in his own thoughts. “I was in so much pain and I couldn’t stop crying, but when you held me and sang to me, it all went away…,”  
“Well, Gerard…I’m happy you went peacefully. You didn’t die in vain,” I smiled, knowing that I was able to make Gerard’s last moments anything but painful and agonizing.  
“The same can be said for you. I really do believe everyone will miss us, but…Mikey did the right thing. I couldn’t bear to see you suffer like that. It was all too much,”  
“You’re right, Gee,” I sighed, knowing I really will miss everyone, even my own mom and dad. Maybe after all that’s happened, they changed. Maybe now their hatred doesn’t blind them anymore, and they realized where they went wrong. It was their hatred and bigotry that split us apart. I looked up at Gerard, realizing he’s changed too. No longer is he so hell-bent on getting his revenge. No longer is he haunted by his dark past. No longer is he broken. Now he’s happy without a care in the world. The Gerard I’m looking at is not the same basement-dweller that’s full of hatred and a lust for vengeance. This is a different one--a Gerard that’s been fixed…  
“Gerard…you’ve changed,” I said. “A lot has changed about you, you know that, right?”  
“Yes, yes I do, baby,” he nodded, taking me into his loving embrace as we both laid down to look up at the grey and white sky. “You fixed me, Frankie. Your love for me has put me back together, and for that…I thank you. It was my hatred and anger and fear that broke me, yet your love put me back together,”  
“That’s true, Gerard. Hate is what destroys, and love is what fixes. As corny as it sounds, it’s true…,”  
“It is, Frankie,” Gerard whispered, leaning his head on my shoulder as he began to hum a little song. It’s a song I remember. It’s a song that we’ve sung to each other before. It’s a song that I definitely already know the name of, and it’s about loving each other and never letting anyone take the light from each other’s eyes.  
“Gerard…are you sure we’re gonna be with each other forever here? I’m not gonna leave you when I die, am I?” I asked, just wanting to stay here with Gerard forever, and never leave like I hope not to. I can’t leave him. I can’t be taken away from my love again.  
“No, Frankie. You’ll still be here after you die. We’ll be here together forever, baby,” Gerard smiled, holding me close as he kissed my cheek softly. “You’ll always be with me, Frankie. You’ll always be with me in my heart, no matter what,”  
I’ll never know what this place truly is. It could all be a dream, or something more. It better be more than a dream, because this is all too good to be false. I am finally with Gerard again, and it feels so amazing beyond words. There’s no time for be to decipher if this really is or is not a dream. Fuck that. I need to forget everything, and just be with him...forever.  
“You’re right, Gee,” I smiled back, knowing that I am to be with Gerard, my love, my sugar, my baby, my sunshine, forever in this world, whatever it may be. “Just like I’ll always be the light behind your eyes,”


	30. Author's *late* notes

I really don’t have much to say, except for a special thanks to Paige Eimen for helping me put the story together, as well as Nene Joslyn for the support. Also, I want to thank everyone that took the time to read this fanfic and support me every step of the way. None of this would have been possible without you guys. I am happy to say that this is not only my first frerard fanfic, but the first full-fledged novella I’ve finished, and knowing that makes me feel so accomplished and good about myself beyond words. I also of course wanna thank MCR for inspiring me in so many ways, including to keep running and, of course, not be afraid to keep on living.

Thank you, everyone. I love you all.

 

-Corrina  
xoxo


	31. Q&A

(Warning: Contains major spoilers)

 

Q: What happened to Frank at the end? Did he die?  
A: In chapter 28 (Famous Last Words), he got into a fight with Bert and ended up hitting his head hard against the sink, causing a concussion that made him slip into a coma. When he finally woke up, his whole body had lost all movement and sensation, causing him to be “locked in”. He was pretty much a vegetable. Mikey, Ray, and Bob all decide to let Frank die with dignity and pull the plug on him to end his suffering. In the epilogue (Fake Your Death), as he started to pass away, he sees Gerard in this sort of vision, like a dream or another world like an afterlife (I’ll let the audience decide for themselves what it truly is). So yes, Frank did die, but he at least got to be with Gerard in the end, afterlife or not.

 

Q: What would have happened to Gerard after he killed Cecil, had he not died afterwards?  
A: Based on what I’ve written about this character, I think Gerard would’ve still been the same person after fulfilling his mission of revenge, despite saying otherwise. If anything, he would have grown worse. He would have taken his wrath and bloodlust out on innocent people, maybe even Frank. After all, just like the moral of the story, hate corrupts you.

 

Q: How would Mikey, Ray, and Bob end up after Frank and Gerard died? What would happen to all of them?  
A: They all likely would have parted ways after all that’s happened. Mikey would move out and find a place to stay with someone from work or something, Bob would probably end up in prison for being caught selling drugs, and Ray would most likely sell his house, move somewhere else, and continue his drag career. The house he’s shared with the others shares too many memories that are now bittersweet, now that Frank and Gerard are gone.

 

Q: Will this fic end badly (for those who haven’t read the whole thing yet)?  
A: Why are you reading this Q&A if you haven’t read the story yet? Just go back and finish it already, and see for yourself.

 

Q: Why did you write this fic? Is this your first one?  
A: Yes, it is my first frerard fic I’ve written. I just wanted to give a try at writing my own frerard fic after reading A Splitting of the Mind, since it fucked me up so bad. You could say it inspired me to get back to writing, and for that, I thank the author from the bottom of my little emo black heart, despite also ruining me and my soul. And again, I also thank everyone that’s followed me, read this story, and been there to support me writing it. It would have been impossible without all of you.


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